Just a Kiss
by Caiwen Nallron
Summary: During their 3rd year at the 9SC, Masaki makes his final bid to catch Miyuki's interest. Tatsuya intervenes, pushing Masaki toward the person who already loves him. But then Tatsuya and Masaki share a kiss. They're both plunged into questions of attraction, romance, and love. Now AU.
1. Changing Destinies

**Rating:** T [slash]

 **Pairings:** TatsuyaxMasaki, TatsuyaxMiyuki,MasakixKichijouji

 **Disclaimer:** "The Irregular at Magic High School" is the property of Satou Tsutomu. The fanfic author is not making any money from this story.

 **Author's Note:** Masaki calls Kichijouji "Jouji" in both the anime soundtrack and the original light novel, so I'll have Masaki do the same here. ("Jouji" can be rendered in English as "George," so Satou is being clever.)

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 **Changing Destinies**

Friday, 8 August 2098

20:15

At the end of the Nine Schools Competition was, once again, the celebratory ball. As third year students, Ichijou Masaki and Kichijouji Shinkurou were attending the ball for the last time.

Masaki had managed to give the rest of his friends—who were mostly female—the slip. Temporarily. He stood by Kichijouji, sipping his nonalcoholic champagne, and watched Miyuki finish a dance with Tatsuya. Tatsuya wandered over to a server, getting a drink for himself, and Miyuki joined her group of female friends.

"According to the rumors, they'll be married as soon as they graduate," Kichijouji said, folding his arms behind his back.

"Mn." Masaki took another sip of champagne, the bubbles bursting against his tongue and burning on the way down.

"Will you approach her?" Kichijouji asked.

Masaki watched Miyuki blush and laugh. "My dad would insist that I do." After all, his father had filed an official application to engage them in an attempt to stop the Yotsuba's move. "If he were here, he'd have his hand planted in the middle of my back and would be pushing me out onto the dance floor."

Kichijouji chuckled. "That's true." He slanted a look at Masaki. "But that's as much about politics as it is about your father wanting you to be happy. The Yotsuba are already overpowered, even without the intermarriage, and Yotsuba Maya is dangerous."

The champagne burned Masaki's nose as he took a sip that was too large and then nearly swallowed it wrong. It made him sniff. "True. But politics or not, you know my feelings for Yotsuba Miyuki are real."

"Define real."

"What?" Masaki stared at Kichijouji. "What do you mean?" Kichijouji had never talked about Miyuki and the situation in this way before.

"You find her to be beautiful and talented," Kichijouji said. "You also have discovered that she's intelligent. But you haven't spent any alone time with her or dated her. You don't actually _know_ her, so you can't take her full measure."

At first, Masaki couldn't even reply. Kichijouji had been fully supportive of him all this time and had never critiqued him. When he found his voice, he said, "You're saying it's superficial attraction?" He couldn't help the flash of pain that fired through him.

Kichijouji looked away. "Is attraction such a black and white topic? Is love? Or are we all so desperate to not be lonely that we'll swallow the most simplistic and binary definitions of love and marriage so we can rush out there, find someone, and get married—just to end up divorced?" He glanced back. "Surely there's something more."

As far as Masaki was concerned, Kichijouji was a genius in almost every way, and so he took the questions seriously. "You're suggesting I may have tunnel vision?"

Kichijouji met Masaki's gaze. "I'll support you in whatever you do. You know that. But you're an idealistic person who is grounded in his beliefs, values, and feelings. You value family, and you value the people around you as equals. You don't look down on the people who work for your family, like the bodyguards. To make a decision about who you'll marry based solely on her looks and talents and not on her inner self, values, and heart seems out of character for who you really are."

Masaki felt a weird thunking sensation in his chest, as though a stone had plummeted through his body. "Oh." He couldn't deny the observation.

"Get out there and ask her dance." Kichijouji took Masaki's champagne flute from him. "You'll regret it if you don't. Make your final bid for her, but if she turns you down, move on. For all you know, she doesn't share your values, anyway."

Masaki experienced internal pressure and then a mental sharpening, as though Kichijouji had just popped his brain like a balloon. "You're right, Jouji." He had to smile, even if it was wan. "This is why you're both my best friend and my strategist."

Kichijouji inclined his head.

Masaki marched across the ballroom, headed for Miyuki. _My final shot. Here we go. This is probably going to hurt, but it's time to get this issue settled. We're getting ready to graduate. There's no reason to drag this out any longer._

* * *

From across the ballroom, Shiba Tatsuya watched Ichijou Masaki approach his sister. _Fiancé,_ he mentally corrected himself. He'd known this would happen, of course. He'd been waiting for it. Given that Masaki had taken first place in both events he participated in—including Steeplechase Cross Country for the second year—Masaki's confidence would be bolstered. Also, Tatsuya and Miyuki's wedding date would be set soon, at their aunt's convenience, and would likely be in March, right after they graduated from high school. Masaki was running out of time if he wanted to make a play for Miyuki.

Tatsuya took a sip of his nonalcoholic champagne and just watched.

On one hand, Tatsuya couldn't blame Masaki for the effort. Any confident high school boy would do the same thing—and probably most men, too. On the other hand, Tatsuya wondered why Masaki persisted, given that his feelings couldn't be anything other than an infatuation. Also, the Yotsuba had not accepted Ichijou Gouki's attempt to stop the engagement.

But, as Tatsuya had learned, this was just the way high schoolers tended to be. And, since he wasn't romantically in love with Miyuki, Tatsuya wasn't the least bit offended or threatened. He had promised Miyuki he would try to think of her as a woman and not just his little sister, but as of yet, his brain hadn't made the conversion. He wasn't sure it ever would. The only thing he was sure of was that he would find a way to make Miyuki happy. It was his life's goal.

Masaki and Miyuki were talking now. Masaki was blushing. Miyuki was smiling. Whether she agreed to dance with Masaki this time was entirely dependent on her current mood and whatever it was Masaki said.

Tatsuya felt like he was watching real life TV.

To Tatsuya's surprise, Miyuki took Masaki's offered hand, and they headed out onto the dance floor.

"It's temporary," Tatsuya murmured, although there was no way for Masaki to hear him. _And Miyuki, why are you leading him on? Don't you understand that Masaki will take this the wrong way?_

Tatsuya experienced a flash of genuine frustration.

He couldn't be said to have a friendship with Masaki, but he had worked together with Masaki twice now. Masaki had proven to be a worthwhile ally. Masaki's talent had never been in question, but on top of his power, he was dependable. Masaki was quick to take action, he could be counted on, and he stayed calm in a crisis. Tatsuya could respect all of that. And, provisionally, they got along now.

As a result, Tatsuya wasn't happy to see Masaki being led on, especially when all it could do was muddy the water between himself and Masaki. The world was getting more unstable, and Tatsuya felt sure he would need to work alongside Masaki in the future.

Turning away from the sight of the smiling Masaki and the equally smiling Miyuki, Tatsuya headed toward the table where his friends had gathered. It was then that his gaze ghosted over Kichijouji Shinkurou.

Kichijouji was also watching Masaki and Miyuki, and he was frowning, his brow furrowed.

 _Is he worried for the same reason I'm uncomfortable?_ Tatsuya wondered. But something about Kichijouji's expression made him pause. _No, wait. I don't think that's it._

Tatsuya found himself gliding over to Kichijouji's position.

"Kichijouji Shinkurou," he said by way of greeting.

Kichijouji glanced up at him. "Shiba Tatsuya." He looked away, brow still furrowed.

"He shouldn't have asked Miyuki to dance," Tatsuya said. "Then again, she shouldn't have accepted."

Kichijouji snapped his gaze back to Tatsuya. "It's better to try and fail than to not try and then wonder if you could have succeeded."

"Wise." Tatsuya took a sip of champagne. "But something about it worries you."

Kichijouji jerked slightly. He stared at the floor, a miserable blush on his cheeks. "It's doomed to fail."

Instead of sounding like a prediction of doom, the words sounded like someone trying to convince themselves. "You don't want Miyuki to marry your best friend?"

"I just want Masaki to be happy."

For a moment, Tatsuya had to re-analyze everything he knew about Cardinal George and the Crimson Prince. _Oh. You have_ those _kinds of feelings for Masaki._

Tatsuya started to scoff and turn away. Everyone knew that gay and lesbian relationships were unproductive and inappropriate. It was just a matter of lust.

In fact, Tatsuya did turn and take two steps.

Then he stopped as his analysis completed itself.

 _Wait a minute._ Tatsuya turned back to Kichijouji, who now had his arms crossed over his stomach, apparently having read Tatsuya's look of censure. "How long have you been friends with Ichijou?"

"Five years," Kichijouji murmured.

"How did you meet him?"

"He and his family's volunteer unit rescued me during the Sado Island invasion."

 _Oh. Just like I saved Miyuki in Okinawa._ "And you've been at Ichijou Masaki's side ever since?"

Kichijouji nodded.

"And Ichijou is very protective of you." This wasn't a question. Half or more of the reason Masaki had lost to Tatsuya during the Monolith Code was because Masaki got distracted by Kichijouji's endangerment and paused to protect him.

Kichijouji nodded again anyway.

"And you would do anything for him," Tatsuya concluded, thinking of Miyuki, who had likewise dedicated herself to his wellbeing and—he now knew—had fallen in love with him because he saved her during the attack.

"What of it?" Kichijouji murmured, still staring at the floor.

 _You're a male Miyuki,_ Tatsuya thought, surprised. _Masaki takes you with him almost everywhere he goes. You gladly accompany him. Masaki protects you and always acts to save you. And you fell in love with Masaki because he was instrumental in saving your life during the attack. The two of you are . . . Miyuki and me._

Tatsuya gazed across the dance floor at the smiling Masaki, the parallels making him uncomfortable.

Then he considered the way Miyuki would react to his dancing with a girl from Third High, if the roles were reversed.

Tatsuya's homophobic worldview began sliding sideways. Suddenly the "everyone knows this to be true" was on shaky ground. "You are in _love_ with Ichijou Masaki."

Kichijouji was already a pale-skinned boy, but he turned paler still. He threw up both hands. "It's not like that!"

"It is," Tatsuya sighed. A final piece came crashing down on his head. "And what's more, your love for Ichijou is just as taboo and forbidden as Miyuki's love for me is."

Kichijouji lowered his hands. "Yes. It is. But _she_ still gets to marry _you_." The words were filled with so much rage and hurt that they could have cut steel.

 _And so the person in the most agony tonight is Kichijouji Shinkurou, not Ichijou Masaki._ Tatsuya abandoned his champagne flute on the table behind them. "I will see if I can wake Ichijou up. Not for your sake, but for mine. I need him to stop chasing after my fiancé. It doesn't offend me, but it could cause problems down the road."

"Masaki is straight," Kichijouji said, eyes wide.

Tatsuya noticed for the first time that Kichijouji's eyes were crimson. _Red. Which is Masaki's favorite color. How fitting. Even the name Shinkurou means "deep crimson," at least with the kanji your parents used. If I believed in destiny, I would think you were made to be at Masaki's side._ "Maybe Ichijou is. Maybe he isn't. He's followed around by an entire gaggle of Third High girls, but he doesn't date them. And the girl he does have a crush on lives on the opposite side of Japan, which conveniently keeps her far away. He can't actually date her. Have you ever considered that Ichijou only has a crush on Miyuki—who is obviously unattainable for him under these circumstances—so that he doesn't have to face his sexual deviation?"

Those crimson eyes flashed. "It's not a deviation," Kichijouji hissed. "Do a little research, why don't you? History, biology, psychology, sociology—take your pick."

"Very well. I shall." Tatsuya headed across the dance floor toward the far doors. "And when I can catch him alone, I'll give Ichijou a nudge. Without mentioning your name, of course." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a search engine. He could do research and plot his strategy at the same time.

Tatsuya was already outside in the cool night air before he realized his description of Ichijou Masaki as surrounded by girls who were crushing on him but in whom he had no interest matched everyone else's description of himself.

* * *

Thirty minutes into his research, Tatsuya became aware he was no longer alone. He was on a bench outside, near the water fountain but hidden by an archway of wisteria blooms covering one walkway. Thanks to his quick reading speed, he'd been through five psychology articles, one sociology article, three history articles, and one biology article. His assumptions about sexuality had taken an extreme diversion already, and he wasn't even done researching yet.

He was also feeling abashed. _I went right along with my culture without any research or analysis of my own. I don't do that about other things, so why did I swallow our sexual mores so blindly?_

Catching sight of his prey—one very dejected-looking Ichijou Masaki—Tatsuya stowed his phone and stepped under the archway, hiding himself behind the wisteria blooms.

Masaki crossed the expanse, noticed the bench, and headed for it. He plopped down with a groan and rubbed his face with both hands.

Tatsuya gave Masaki three minutes of silence to sort his thoughts. Then he stepped out and stood at the edge of the bench. "Ichijou Masaki."

Masaki jumped faintly, having clearly been deep in thought, and gazed up at him. A rueful smile crossed his lips. "Here to warn me off?"

"I know I don't need to," Tatsuya said. "I am well aware by this point that Miyuki only has eyes for me. I was surprised by her confession, but she's told me that she's been in love with me since I was thirteen." _Just like Kichijouji with you, it would seem._

Masaki slouched on the bench. "Ah. I was never on her radar. No one was." His tone was flat.

Tatsuya dared to sit by him. Standing over him would make Masaki feel threatened or dominated. Facing him would make the conversation seem antagonistic. Only sitting beside Masaki would signal a normal conversation. "True. It is nothing that I planned for or intended. It just is." He sighed. "I admit I'm more affectionate toward her, even publically, than is typical for an older brother. But I don't have sexual feelings for her."

Masaki stared at Tatsuya, wide-eyed.

It was no wonder why. Tatsuya had just shared something personal, something that left him somewhat vulnerable. He was taking a risk, but it was part of his strategy for opening this topic. "You have an entire group of girls who follow you around."

"As do you," Masaki said.

"But you date none of them, or so I've been told."

"I've heard you don't date any of the ones following you around, either."

They gazed at each other, measuring each other up.

"Why not?" Tatsuya asked, taking the plunge.

Masaki shrugged. "I don't hit it off with any of them. A lot of them are pretty, but I'm looking for something I can't put my finger on. I'll just know it when I find it." He sighed. "Jouji says it'll have something to do with my personal values."

 _He actually answered the question!_ Tatsuya felt oddly pleased. He'd expected to be rebuffed. "And Miyuki has this element?"

"She does seem to have some of it. But it's also—" Masaki blushed. "Ah, never mind. I can't say that. It's inappropriate."

Tatsuya felt even more pleased. _So you do have manners. I had wondered, especially when I first met you._ "But you don't actually know yet if she has all of it."

Masaki paused, then nodded. "You?"

"I don't fall in love."

Masaki stared again.

"Perhaps one day I will explain that in more detail," Tatsuya said. "It's private."

"Understood." Masaki gazed into the distance, toward the fountain.

Tatsuya waited, but Masaki didn't push. Once again, he felt pleased. _So you do have some level of respect for me, even if you've considered me your number one rival for three years now._

Silence stretched out between them.

"Someone already loves you," Tatsuya said. "I apologize for broaching such a private and personal topic, but because I can't avoid drawing parallels between certain parts of our lives, I have noticed this. You have your own Miyuki."

Masaki snapped his gaze back to Tatsuya. "I _do_?"

Tatsuya nodded. "It would be inappropriate for me to name the person in question; that is up to them to confess. But there is no denying it. Miyuki, although she is not perfect, has been a source of support and encouragement to me these last five years. She stands by me. And she always will."

"If I have someone like that, then it's not a girl," Masaki quipped.

Then he froze. A blush leaked into his cheeks, and his gaze was pinned on the grass.

"Yes, I know it's awkward," Tatsuya said, realizing he felt some degree of empathy. "Certainly Miyuki and I have both gotten the side-eye ever since we were engaged. My aunt's move to adopt me is transparent at best."

Masaki rubbed the tops of his thighs in a nervous gesture. "Even if I had those kinds of feelings for a boy—and I'm not saying I do—you know I could never act on them." His face was scarlet by this point. "I'm expected to marry a woman and have heirs. Most especially because I'm the Ichijou scion."

"So marry a woman and have heirs," Tatsuya said. "Many men, especially among the Ten Master Clans, have lovers on the side. My father did." He shrugged, not finding that to be too private to share. "When powerful clans and their bloodlines are at stake, marriages are often made for alliance, convenience, or pedigree, not love. Marry whom you have to. Keep the one you truly love as well."

"Is that not immoral?" Masaki stared at Tatsuya as though he'd never seen him before.

Tatsuya shrugged again. "Moral or immoral, it's just life. Political marriages don't inspire fidelity, and recent research I've done suggests that our view of sexuality and sexual morals is too black and white." _As in, research I just began tonight._ "Be open and transparent with both partners. Don't act in secret. Value both partners equally. That's all I can say without reading up on the topic more."

Masaki didn't reply.

Tatsuya didn't expect him to. Once Masaki got shocked enough, he tended to stutter and panic.

A good three or four minutes passed.

Masaki stood, his fists clenched and his head bowed. His blush had receded, but he still radiated tension. "You've . . . given me a lot to think about. I'm not sure what I feel about it, but . . . Well, thank you."

"It's no problem." Tatsuya stood as well. Inexplicably, he found himself wishing the gap between them would close now—now that Masaki had likely given up on Miyuki. _Of course, it might just get wider instead. He could resent me forever for getting to marry Miyuki._ But Masaki hadn't acted irritable with him so far. _It's better for me to keep someone as strong as you on my side. 'Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.' But at the same time, I would prefer not to be enemies with you._

And then, without a second thought, without even knowing why, Tatsuya reached out and clasped Masaki's shoulder .

Masaki jerked slightly, given he hadn't been looking Tatsuya's direction, but he didn't pull away.

A weird feeling that Tatsuya didn't recognize filtered through him, faint but pleasant. He'd only felt something similar once before. _What is this?_

Masaki gave him a wry smile. "I look that terrible, huh? All right. I'll pull it together, then." He squared his shoulders and lifted his chin, and then he headed back toward the hotel.

Tatsuya watched him go, noting the way Masaki assumed he needed to "man up," although that wasn't the message Tatsuya had meant to send. _Well, that tells me something about what kind of father you have. He must be the manly-man type: tough, gritty, and filled with fortitude._

And, for the first time, Tatsuya found himself genuinely curious about the person of Ichijou Masaki and who he really was.

* * *

Masaki had intended to return to the ballroom. He even made it within ten feet of the ballroom doors. Then he veered left and entered the lobby instead.

Only a few students were in the lobby, clustered in groups and laughing. The chandeliers cast a warm glow on their hair and faces, as though the light existed only to illuminate their happiness.

Masaki walked past them, silent, trying to look as if he didn't feel burning pain.

The anguish was coming and going in waves, like the ocean. While he was talking to Tatsuya, Masaki had been distracted enough for the tide to go out. Now the tide had come back in. He had seen the finality of Miyuki's answer in her eyes. He had felt it radiating off her skin. And for the first time, he'd seen beyond her otherworldly beauty—the beauty so ethereal that it enchanted boys and girls alike—and registered the person underneath it. He had seen that her engagement to Tatsuya wasn't a political arrangement. She was in love with him. The determination she felt to see the marriage through was like a steel cable running through her body.

Masaki headed down the hallway on the far side of the clerks' desk. There were conference rooms there. He found an empty one, slipped inside, and shut the door.

For a moment, Masaki leaned against the door, his face tilted upward. He closed his eyes, watching the light pierce his eyelids. He felt the burning sensation of tears, and with no one to witness them, he didn't stop them. He finally understood the phrase "stabbing pain" in an emotional context. Flashes of agony exploded outward like lightning bolts firing out of his heart and through his lungs.

It took five minutes for him to vent the pain fully. He could only be glad the conference table had a box of tissues on it.

Once Masaki was calm, he sat at the table and stared at the little pile of wadded tissues he'd created. He understood the biology of crying. Human beings were made to cry because it triggered a chemical release in the brain—one that granted pain relief. He sank into that relief.

Only then did Tatsuya's words return to him: _"You have your own Miyuki."_

"Jouji," Masaki whispered. The instant Tatsuya had said it, and Masaki had realized whom Tatsuya meant, he had seen the potential truth of it. It made sense. A lot of sense. But Masaki would have to see Jouji in person to verify it. He wanted to look into Jouji's eyes.

However, that didn't change the fact that three years' worth of intense emotions for Miyuki had just been ripped right out of him.

Masaki took deep breaths as a wave of agony seared through him again. He kept breathing deeply until it passed. He felt certain he would have nightmares that night. But there was nothing he could do to hang on. The door had been slammed in his face, and he knew he was the kind of person who would move on now. It wasn't in his nature to stand still. Even at his highest level of competitiveness, he always retained the ability to recognize when a match was over.

Perhaps the thing that hurt the most was the revelation that no match had been possible in the first place.

For a moment, Masaki wanted to hate Tatsuya. Forever. He wanted to pray Tatsuya's marriage to Miyuki would fail. He wanted his father to apply all the Ichijou Clan's power to stopping the marriage in the first place. And he never wanted to see Shiba Tatsuya's face ever again.

The moment drifted away from Masaki, nothing but vapor.

Masaki stared out the window into the night. The moon, nearly full, hung low in the sky, beginning its accent. Venus shone nearby, its light brighter than the stars.

More of Tatsuya's words returned to him: _"It is nothing that I planned for or intended. It just is."_

Masaki sighed, expelling his remaining anger. Tatsuya's lack of agency and romantic interest could have made Masaki even more miserable. An uninterested man gets to marry Miyuki? But Masaki found it had the opposite effect. It made it hurt less. It brought Masaki some relief to know Tatsuya hadn't been scheming in the background, planning a romantic heist.

"Whatever will be, will be," Masaki muttered. He gathered up the wadded tissues and headed for the door.

He paused by the trashcan, tossing away the tissues. He wished he could toss away his heartbreak, too. But the anguish would pass, and he knew it. Neither one of his parents had married their first loves, and they'd still found happiness. Masaki just had to keep breathing through the waves of pain.

Masaki left the room, shutting the door behind him. He shut the door on the image of Shiba Tatsuya as his rival. He shut the door on the chapter of life known as high school—several months early.

And as Masaki walked down the hall toward the elevators, in his mind Shiba Tatsuya was simply a fellow magician. A fellow magician that Masaki would likely be fighting beside many, many times in the future.

Masaki decided he could live with that.


	2. In the Moonlight

**Chapter 2**

 **In the Moonlight**

When Masaki returned to his hotel room, he found Kichijouji sitting in a chair by the window. Kichijouji had dumped his uniform jacket and tie, but he still wore his vest.

"You vanished after your dance with Yotsuba-san," Kichijouji said. "I take it that means it didn't go well."

Masaki sighed and crossed the room, ditching his jacket and tie as he went. "No, it didn't. She shot me down once our dance was over. Solidly." He fell into the opposite chair. Somehow, just seeing Jouji made his pain more bearable.

Kichijouji cringed. "What did she say?"

"She said, 'My heart, soul, and body belong to Tatsuya-sama. Other than dancing, I can't bear to be touched by another man. I owe my life to Tatsuya-sama, and all I have and all I am belong to him alone. That's a choice I've made for my entire lifetime. Even if Tatsuya-sama were to die, I wouldn't marry another.'"

"I can't decide if that's romantic or dangerous," Kichijouji said. He folded his hands in his lap. "I'm leaning toward dangerous, though. It honestly makes me worried for her. Why would you sacrifice the entire rest of your life, refusing the chance for any other relationships or happiness? Should such grief have to last a lifetime? And is it safe to pour your entire stock into only one person?"

Masaki's brow furrowed. "Is it really such a problem?" He'd never considered the issue before, but he was certainly hurting like hell after focusing all his romantic interest on Miyuki.

"Yes. I fear she lacks her own sense of identity and self-worth, instead having placed her perception of herself into her fiancé, which makes her source of self-confidence outside of herself. That's dangerous. If he dies, she won't know who she is." Kichijouji sighed. "Even though I'm determined to serve as your chief tactical officer, if you die, my entire identity won't be lost. I'll just spend my life as a magic researcher instead. But I fear that without Shiba-san, Yotsuba-san will lack any passion to be a clan head—or possibly to even have the drive to remain alive. And although it might _sound_ romantic to commit suicide because your beloved spouse died, in the real world, it's painful and tragic."

Masaki bowed his head. "You're already wise, and you haven't even graduated high school yet."

Kichijouji blushed. "Well, I _do_ research and read a lot. And not just about magic."

"My genius," Masaki murmured, putting his theory about his best friend to the test.

Kichijouji's blush crept down his neck.

 _You_ are _in love with me,_ Masaki thought, suspicions verified. _How did I not see that before?_ He clenched the chair arms. The world was drawing into sharper and sharper focus, as though someone were dropping lens after lens over Masaki's eyes until his eyesight was 20/20.

Suddenly the ground rushed back under Masaki's feet, as solid as granite. The past five years paraded in front of his mind's eye, the memories nearly taunting him in their obviousness. _And I'm in love with you. Emotionally. We're emotionally married already!_

Masaki shot to his feet, unable to remain sitting. He began pacing back and forth in the space at the foot of each bed. _So I am loved. But how do I even approach this? I don't feel sexual attraction to Jouji, but then again, I never let myself see what my feelings really are. Will I feel sexual attraction? What if I approach this and it blows up? What if we start a romantic relationship and someone finds out? My dad would never accept this kind of behavior from me! I'm his heir. He would order me to stop. I could become a social outcast!_

"Masaki?" came Kichijouji's worried voice.

Masaki realized he was panicking. He stopped and faced his best friend of five years. _I don't know what to do. But you have everything I would want in a wife. Except you're male. Can I really afford to pass that up? How many people live out an entire lifetime and never find someone who loves them as much as we love each other?_

"I've given up on Yotsuba Miyuki," Masaki managed to say. A pang shot through him, letting him know he wasn't magically healed just because Jouji loved him. "I've faced the facts: She gave away her heart long ago. But I don't yet know . . . what to do next."

Kichijouji gazed up at him with wide eyes. Beautiful, crimson eyes. "You don't have to figure it out over night."

"But I want to." Masaki turned and headed for the door. "I need air. I need to think." _Coward,_ an inner voice hissed to Masaki, sounding a lot like his father.

Still, Masaki swept from the room, desperate for space to sort his jumbled emotions and his confusion.

* * *

Midnight came.

Midnight went.

Tatsuya couldn't sleep.

After the ball, there had been a flurry of packing among his classmates, but Tatsuya packed light, so it didn't take him long. Making sure all the CADs were packed safely was his biggest job. Then he'd fooled around with a few CAD designs on his laptop. Finally, he'd lain down. He'd fallen asleep for maybe twenty minutes, had a floating dream starring Masaki, and jerked back awake.

He'd tried showering.

He'd tried meditation.

Nothing worked.

At 1:00, Tatsuya pulled on his uniform, or rather part of it—the pants and the shirt. Then he'd headed down the hall. Between the north wing and the south wing of the hotel, on each floor, were the elevators and snack and drink machines. He was going to buy hot chocolate from the hot drink machine and something made out of heavy carbs from the snack one. A full stomach and hot milk would hopefully make him sleepy.

It seemed a reasonable plan. Tatsuya even got as far as purchasing the items. Then he glanced out the window and saw Ichijou Masaki sitting on a bench in the courtyard. No one else was around.

Tatsuya was in the elevator before his brain even caught up with his body.

On the way down, he considered his motives. He didn't like what he found. His floating dream about Masaki had been simple but disturbing: he'd dreamt he'd kissed Masaki. It had been a pleasant dream, warm and light, and when Tatsuya had awakened, he'd blamed the dream on the night's events and his research. He'd already read six more articles.

It was a fine theory . . . except that Tatsuya was headed downstairs to talk to Masaki. Again.

"This can't be happening," Tatsuya muttered to himself as the elevator door opened, dumping him into the main lobby. He paused, staring down at the marble floor shining under his shoes, reflecting the chandelier above. He considered turning back.

He didn't.

He pushed open the outside door and headed over to Masaki's bench.

Masaki glanced up. "And here I hoped I was the only poor bastard suffering insomnia."

Tatsuya plopped down beside Masaki, setting aside the bagged pastries and popping open the can of hot chocolate. "I sleep very little, ultimately. Usually five hours a night. Sometimes four. Six is decadent."

Masaki chuckled. He picked at the hem of his uniform's vest. He'd apparently opted to forego both the jacket and the tie, and the top few buttons of the shirt were undone. A little brown mole decorated the side of his neck.

 _Why am I suddenly noticing these things?_ Tatsuya wondered. He sipped the hot chocolate carefully. "Your head too full?"

"Yep." Masaki had hold of a loose thread. He worried it with his long, slender fingers.

"Did you talk to your special person?" Tatsuya asked, trying to be delicate but direct. He was less socially awkward than he had been as a First Year, but he still wasn't socially graceful.

Masaki grimaced. "I found I couldn't get it out on the table." His knee began bouncing. "This topic is . . . dangerous."

Tatsuya opened the pastry bag. There were two inside, each one filled with strawberry jam. He offered one to Masaki. "Dangerous because accepting such a change could ruin your friendship? Or dangerous because accepting such a change would make you reassess your identity?"

"Ha!" Masaki accepted a pastry. "You say that so easily. It could be both those things, and both are disastrous." He bit off a small bite, as though he couldn't stomach more.

"I apologize for being too forward, but I must say that I doubt Kichijouji Shinkurou would ever stop loving you, regardless," Tatsuya said. "If you crossed over into dating territory with him, and it didn't work, I think he would return to best friend status without difficulty. You mean too much to him."

"That _is_ too forward," Masaki snapped. Then his shoulders slumped, and he sighed. "But . . . you're probably right. Still—" He stood abruptly, not finishing the sentence. "I can't just sit." He headed off down the sidewalk.

Tatsuya stood and followed, catching up with two long strides. "Your identity is at stake." He took a bite of his own pastry. "Everyone has always told you that you're a man among men, a natural born leader, a born warrior. If you had been born during the Sengoku Jidai, you would have been a samurai or a warlord. To contemplate loving a man is difficult for you. You wonder if you would still be a man if you did that."

Masaki stared at Tatsuya for several long moments, then nibbled at his pastry. Even in the dim illumination of the sidewalk lights, Tatsuya could see a blush on Masaki's fair-skinned face.

"I would have the same concerns." Tatsuya took another sip of hot chocolate. "But it is a matter of historical record that the samurai often took male lovers, many of them beautiful male actors. As accomplished as they were as men and warriors, the samurai clearly saw no clash between their manhood and their sexuality."

"Mn." Masaki took a larger bite of pastry and paused as he chewed and swallowed. "And the government eventually got so upset they passed laws to force the actors to wear ugly hairstyles in hopes the samurai would get turned off."

"And it failed," Tatsuya finished.

Masaki snorted. "Maybe we shouldn't be surprised. Can you really legislate morality?"

"No," Tatsuya had to admit. "And there have been times in history where lawful things—things known to benefit the most people or make the world a better place—have been outlawed so that repressive regimes could maintain control."

They both stopped walking, each one staring at the concrete sidewalk. Above them, the nearly full moon lit the night sky.

"I never thought I'd be talking to you about these kinds of things," Masaki murmured.

Glancing up, Tatsuya felt like some ancient god had struck him in the head with a lightning bolt. _Shit! I want to kiss him in real life. How did this happen to me?_ He gazed at Masaki, swamped with mixed feelings: worry, guilt, and mild arousal. _Oh, no._

Masaki ate the last bite of his pastry, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Why broach such a taboo topic with me? And why imply I shouldn't just . . . I don't know. Run away from Jouji screaming, basically."

"Would it be fair if you did?" Tatsuya asked. His voice was so low it was almost a whisper. "Would that be just and moral and right?" He thought of Miyuki and how taboo her love for him was. "When Miyuki confessed to loving me, I didn't see her as repulsive or evil, and I didn't push her away. How could I then stand in judgment over Kichijouji or you?"

Suddenly Tatsuya felt as though he were drowning. _Am I going along with this engagement just to protect Miyuki? To save her feelings? To make her happy? Is it right to marry her if I don't feel sexual attraction to her? Even if I saw her as a woman and not my sister, could I garner enough sexual passion to truly be a husband?_

Masaki finally stirred and answered. "No. I suppose you couldn't. And it wouldn't be fair of me if I ran away from Jouji out of cowardice. But if I did date Jouji, it would have to be because I genuinely wanted that kind of relationship with him."

Tatsuya's stomach clenched. _Genuinely want that kind of relationship, huh?_ He wasn't often given to fear—as in, almost never—but he still recognized the jittery sensation after a few moments. He ate the rest of his pastry just to buy more time not to speak.

"Are you all right?" Masaki turned toward Tatsuya. "You seem suddenly tense."

The expression of concern caught Tatsuya flatfooted. He hadn't expected Masaki to extend him concern. "I have a head too full of thoughts, also."

Masaki smiled at the deflection. "Ah. Taboo love is taboo love, regardless. We're both standing in a lava pit, huh?"

"It is rather hot out here," Tatsuya joked lightly. He took a bigger swig of hot chocolate.

Masaki laughed.

Tatsuya eyed some recycling bins ahead and walked to them, tossing in the pastry wrapper. He held out the can of hot chocolate. "Need a drink before I toss this?"

"Sure." Masaki accepted the can, drinking after him without missing a beat. "Not bad for a drink machine version." He tossed the can into the recycle bin.

Tatsuya found himself oddly stuck on the fact Masaki had accepted the offer of food and even the drink. Since they weren't friends, it seemed almost intimate. "I suppose the basic question is really just that: basic. Do you find men sexually attractive? Or, specifically, do you find Kichijouji Shinkurou sexually attractive?" Kichijouji was rather boyish and round-faced, after all, not a manly man. "I don't mean that you have to answer that aloud, of course." Tatsuya held up one hand to ward off a verbal attack.

Masaki tilted his head. "Hm. Better question: Do you need to be sexually attracted to someone in order to date them? I mean, I can't imagine dating someone I'm physically repulsed by. But isn't romantic attraction or emotional attraction enough?"

Tatsuya grew incredibly still. _Emotional attraction? Is that what I have with Miyuki, then? Is there hope for me?_

Masaki gave Tatsuya a rueful smile. "The possibility of a romantic relationship built on something other than sexual attraction—and even the nature of sexual attraction itself—was what gave me insomnia. I trust Jouji more than anyone in the world. I can tell him anything. And I really do mean _anything._ We balance each other out, we help each other, we support each other. We share interests. When I have a problem, I know Jouji will help me solve it. He feels the same thing about me." He shrugged. "Isn't that really what most people are after when they date and marry? A _relationship_? Or is marriage just about legally sanctioned lust and the inheritance rights of the offspring?"

At Masaki's show of intelligence and critical thinking, Tatsuya felt something inside him shift and then click into place. _What you're saying makes sense. And it's smart._ Then he was staring. Really staring. His gaze narrowed in on Masaki lips. _No. This can't be happening to me._

A burn erupted through Tatsuya. A chemical burn, deep inside. One that made his heart pound and his hands sweat. One that made him stir. It was strong—hundreds of times stronger than it ever had been around any girl, even when he first hit puberty.

Masaki grew still. He returned the stare. The air between them grew charged, tense, heavy.

Masaki took half a step toward Tatsuya.

Tatsuya didn't move away.

Masaki took a full step closer.

Tatsuya realized his heart was racing wildly. He had never felt an emotion this intense —other than fear and anger over Miyuki's safety. _Oh, god._

Masaki closed the distance between them. Tatsuya felt his arms slip around Masaki's waist. He registered that they were leaning toward each other, and Masaki's arms slipped around his shoulders.

Tatsuya had one last moment of shock. _This could ruin everything!_

Their noses bumped. It didn't stop them. They angled their faces more, and then their lips pressed together.

All of Tatsuya's thoughts stopped.

Masaki's lips were warm. They were softer and wetter than Tatsuya had expected, somehow, but the moment of oddity passed. Then Tatsuya registered the sweetness left over from the pastry and hot chocolate. A few halting moments passed as they figured out how to kiss, and then they seemed to meld together.

Tatsuya felt like a circuit in which the current had just successfully flowed for the first time. Electricity shot through him, making him hard. Then the feeling short-circuited as he internally jerked away in fear. Then it reconnected. Short-circuited. Reconnected. Frustrated, Tatsuya willed himself to relax, chasing after the elusive sensation of pleasure.

Perhaps as a result of Tatsuya's unstable connection to his own feelings, Masaki ended up in charge of the kiss. Tatsuya could tell Masaki was like him—without experience—but he was figuring it out quickly. He mouthed Tatsuya's lips, gently sucking on the lower one.

By degrees, Tatsuya managed to relax. He became aware of the heat of Masaki's body pressed against his. He felt that Masaki was hard, too, which both relieved and scared him. He registered that Masaki's arms were strong around him. It appealed to him, although he hadn't expected it to.

It all appealed to him: Masaki's flat, muscled chest; Masaki's willingness and capability to lead the kiss; Masaki's hardness pressed against his body.

Tatsuya wasn't sure whether to be worried or elated. _This is the first clear, strong sexual attraction I've ever felt. But it's with a man!_

Tatsuya wasn't to be outdone, though. He tightened his arms around Masaki's waist and met the kiss, sucking on Masaki's lower lip in return. _If I do such a thing, it can only ever be as your equal. I will accept nothing else._

A soft, faint sound escaped Masaki: a little moan.

The answering arousal in Tatsuya was so powerful he lost his breath. It broke their kiss.

For a moment, they just stood silently, breathing hard. It took a second for Tatsuya to realize they were both clinging to each other for dear life. _It took him off-guard and scared him, too._ That was comforting.

"I didn't see that coming," Masaki finally murmured. He laughed, the sound half-nervous. "I guess I have an answer to one of my questions, though."

Tatsuya laughed, too. He realized he needed to; it helped dispel the tension inside him. "So now you'll transfer your crush from one sibling to another?" he teased.

Masaki laughed again, this time more sincerely. "Oh, god. Wouldn't that just be my luck?"

Tatsuya was spurred into laughter once more as well—more laughter than usual. His body was easing off the excess emotion it wasn't used to. Once he got himself back under control, he released Masaki. "For god's sake, Masaki. Go back to Kichijouji Shinkurou and kiss him like that. Everything will be fine if you do."

Masaki didn't react with offense to being called by his given name—and without an honorific. He just blushed and smiled. "Well, ah. Right." He ran one hand through his hair. "And you will return to your sister. I mean, fiancé."

Tatsuya nodded. _There is nowhere else I_ could _go._

Masaki sketched a quick bow and headed back toward the hotel. "Thanks for the listening ear, Tatsuya."

"Sure thing." Tatsuya returned the bow and didn't follow. _He called me by my given name, too, and without an honorific._ It made him feel unusually warm.

Only after the hotel doors closed behind Masaki did Tatsuya realize he also felt sad.


	3. Confessions

_A/N: Thank you to my reviewers, followers, etc.!_

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 **Confessions**

Two months passed. October arrived, and with it the Thesis Competition.

Tatsuya wasn't competing this year, but there was no way he'd miss the trip. He refused to miss it for many reasons, not the least of which was he wanted to see Masaki.

Being back at the site of the Yokohama invasion made Tatsuya extra vigilant, or so he tried to tell himself. In the lobby, he scanned all the students arriving, but he had to admit that he was actually searching for the red and violet of Third High.

Miyuki stood with Tatsuya, as always, both her arms looped around his left arm. "You seem nervous. That's not like you. Is something wrong?"

"I'm fine," Tatsuya murmured. _I'm not fine. I just spent two months dreaming of kissing Ichijou Masaki again. Dreaming, remembering, even daydreaming. That feeling I had—that powerful surge of desire—it was the first time I felt like I possess a normal body. I want to feel it again._

These were not thoughts he could share with Miyuki. He couldn't bear to see the disgust wash over her features, and historically, she had reacted poorly to the thought he might be attracted to a girl. With this in mind, Tatsuya couldn't justify horrifying or worrying Miyuki over something that was likely just a passing fancy.

The lobby doors slid open, and a tall redhead entered. Tatsuya knew instantly it was Masaki even without a clearer look.

The crowd parted. Tatsuya flicked his hand at Masaki in a casual wave.

Masaki saw him, smiled, and headed his direction, Kichijouji Shinkurou in tow.

As Masaki and Kichijouji approached him, Tatsuya instantly knew they were lovers now. They were at closer than polite distance as they walked. Also, Masaki appeared more relaxed, happier, and confident. In fact, he seemed to be glowing from the inside-out.

Kichijouji likewise radiated joy.

Although Tatsuya was immensely uncomfortable with his own reaction, he couldn't fight off a sense of sadness. "Hey, Masaki. Kichijouji-san."

"Hey, Tatsuya." Masaki grinned. He offered Miyuki a respectful bow. "Good morning, Yotsuba-san."

Miyuki bowed and smiled. "Good morning, Ichijou-san. We hope. It would be nice to get through a school event without an attack taking place." Terrorists from the New Soviet Union had injured a dozen students and two dozen spectators at the Nine Schools Competition this year.

"It would be nice," Masaki said, "but I doubt we'll be so lucky." Despite the dire prediction, he was still smiling.

Tatsuya turned his attention to Kichijouji. "Good luck today. I saw the name of your thesis. If your application of the idea is as impressive as your summary, you'll likely win." Kichijouji and his team had created a psion-based machine that could help clean pollution from the air.

Kichijouji inclined his head. "Thank you, Shiba-san."

A small silence fell over the group.

 _I wish I could get Masaki alone,_ Tatsuya thought, swallowing a sigh. _But even if I did, would it do any good? Masaki and Kichijouji have been in love for five years already._

Miyuki gave Tatsuya's arm an affectionate squeeze, and it gave Tatsuya a pulse of guilt.

"Are you on guard duty today?" Masaki asked Tatsuya.

Tatsuya took the opening. "Yes. I volunteered."

"I'm head of the Disciplinary Committee this year, so I'm automatically on guard duty."

Tatsuya nodded. "Then we'll keep everyone safe."

* * *

During the presentations, Masaki and Tatsuya stood together, forming a pair. The lobby was quiet. Outdoors it looked quiet.

Tatsuya wasn't fooled. "There's no way someone won't make a move, especially considering how hot of a topic the environment is right now in the magical community. Kichijouji's presentation alone will be enough to draw industrial spies, if nothing else."

"True." Masaki smiled at Tatsuya. "But they won't stand a chance with us on guard."

Tatsuya felt included in a way he usually didn't around Masaki. He wished he could be blasé about that, but he wasn't. "You seem happy."

Masaki gave him a big grin. "Yeah."

"Then you sorted your thoughts," Tatsuya said. He needed more of an opening to make the request he wanted to make, and he wasn't sure how to get it.

"I did." Masaki canted his head. "Did you? You said your brain was also too full."

"Sort of." Tatsuya looked away. _I can't really sort it until I talk to you in private again._

This time Masaki snorted. "That wasn't convincing. I'll visit a vending machine and feed you pastries and hot chocolate if you think it'd help." He laughed.

Tatsuya snapped his gaze back to Masaki. A faint blush had reddened Masaki's cheeks. " _Yes._ " He paused, cursing himself. _I sounded a little too intense._

Masaki's features softened. "Good. When will your school be departing?"

"Not until morning." Tatsuya noticed his heart rate had accelerated. _God, how am I accessing such a powerful emotion? Nothing's even happened yet._

"Midnight. Hiki Park." Masaki pointed out the lobby window toward the small memorial park that had been built the previous year—a walking trail, a duck pond, and some trees.

Tatsuya nodded. "I'll be there."

Applause erupted from the auditorium. Thunderous applause. Both Masaki and Tatsuya glanced toward the doors.

"Sounds like your boyfriend won," Tatsuya murmured, dropping his voice low enough that no one would overhear.

"He worked hard," Masaki said. "Tirelessly. For the entire last five months, actually. He deserves it."

Tatsuya experienced an odd pang at Masaki's easy acceptance of the word "boyfriend" to describe Kichijouji.

* * *

Midnight came.

This time Tatsuya hadn't even tried to sleep.

Tatsuya slipped out the hotel doors and headed for the little park. He'd told Miyuki that he was heading out to meet Masaki, but he didn't tell her where he'd be or why he was going. At this point, he couldn't feel even a shade of guilt. An internal pressure had built up inside of him, making him feel like a bottle of champagne someone had been shaking—for an entire fifteen minutes.

A quarter moon hung over Tatsuya's head, adding its light to the park's lamps. Tatsuya crossed the pavement at a brisk pace. _This is terrible. Why am I reacting this way?_ After two hours of research on the human body, he had a better sense of _how_ he was able to react. But the _why_ was elusive at best.

His self-recrimination died, buried under the burning need inside his chest, as though a match had been lit in his lungs. He'd never felt anything like it before.

He found Masaki on a bench by the duck pond, just five feet away from the walking path.

Masaki stood and grinned. "I brought the goods." He gestured to the bench seat. Two cans of hot chocolate and a bag of pastries awaited them.

"I see," Tatsuya murmured. He felt a smile on his lips. _Somehow that seems just like you._ He crossed the grass, trying to think of something to say. He wasn't even sure what kind of conversation to start. His social awkwardness flared back up, but he was determined to find out if the feeling he'd experienced before was a once-in-a-lifetime flash or if it were something—

 _Something being in Ichijou Masaki's arms can cause?_ Tatsuya asked himself, stopping in front of the boy in question. _Oh, god. Tell me that is not my fate._

Masaki met Tatsuya's gaze. A small smile hovered on his lips, and his eyes were soft. Affectionate, even. Tatsuya's heart sped up at that realization.

"Ma-saki." Tatsuya nearly tripped over the name, his throat closing up as unusually strong emotions once again surged up, surprising him.

"Mn." Masaki ran his arms around Tatsuya's shoulders, pulling him tight against his chest.

Tatsuya moved in tandem, wrapping his arms around Masaki's waist and embracing him with nearly brutal strength. Then suddenly they were kissing, mouthing each other's lips, making little sounds of pleasure.

A lightning strike of arousal fired through Tatsuya. He gasped into the kiss but reengaged it immediately. He felt himself stirring, felt his blood racing through his veins. Part of him wanted to rein in his new emotions and flee. The other part was fighting back, clawing its way forward, demanding that its needs get met.

Masaki slipped his tongue into Tatsuya's mouth, caressing. For a moment, Tatsuya wasn't sure what to do with that—Miyuki and he had not kissed this way yet—but it felt so good he didn't care. Then he figured out how to caress in return. Sheets of pleasure radiated through him, and he clung to Masaki's waist tighter as they kissed more passionately. Masaki began moaning softly, and the sound sent shivers of raw desire through Tatsuya. He caught Masaki's tongue and sucked on it, reveling in Masaki's deeper moan as he did.

Tatsuya then returned the favor, slipping his tongue into Masaki's mouth and exploring. Anything to hear more of those little moans. He kissed Masaki until he could feel both their erections trapped against each other's bodies, throbbing. He kissed Masaki until his underwear felt wet and he couldn't breathe anymore.

When they finally parted, they were both panting.

"What about Kichijouji?" Tatsuya bowed his head, struck with a muted but still painful mix of triumph and shame. He couldn't let go of Masaki's waist.

Masaki pressed a kiss to Tatsuya's forehead. "He knows I'm here. And why. We talked it over long and hard. We already can't be monogamous because we have to marry and have heirs. So why would we not date others as well? He's fine with me being here. Genuinely fine."

"That's ironic," Tatsuya muttered. The spot Masaki had kissed tingled pleasantly, although he couldn't say why. "I'm the one who told you to be open and honest with your other partner, but now I'm the one who hasn't been transparent. Miyuki knows I'm meeting with you, but not why. She also doesn't know we kissed before."

"So tell her tomorrow." Masaki cupped Tatsuya's cheek. "If she truly loves you and cares about your happiness, perhaps she'll be willing to hear you out and work with you on this. A true love is hard to find. Should we turn our backs on it if we do find it?"

Tatsuya looked away. Now his cheek was tingling, too. "I can't feel strong emotions like love." The admission jarred him more than it had on previous occasions. "I hate to admit it, but it's more likely what I feel for you is nothing but raw passion. It's just a chemical reaction produced by testosterone by way of my pituitary gland."

"Passion is a strong emotion," Masaki drawled.

"It's the purely physical kind," Tatsuya insisted. "There's a chemical reaction generated by pheromones that causes people to—"

Masaki kissed him again.

Realizing Masaki's reply was the kiss, Tatsuya let his eyes drift shut. Masaki's lips on his felt so good. Masaki's arms around him felt good. Masaki's chest pressed against his felt good. Tatsuya wanted to believe that this emotion he was experiencing was not just hormone-based. That it could be something more. He just wasn't sure why he was feeling it with Masaki and not Miyuki.

Masaki caressed Tatsuya's tongue, kissing him slowly and gently and thoroughly. Tatsuya found himself relaxing into the kiss. His body stirred again, that same powerful burn traveling down into his groin and making his underwear even wetter. Finally, a soft little moan escaped him. He hadn't even known he could moan. Masaki moaned in return and caressed his back with one hand.

When they paused to breathe, Tatsuya spoke again. "Are you really fine with nothing but a chemical reaction? With nothing but pheromones and testosterone?"

"I have faith it's more than that. Or can be."

"But you can't know—"

Masaki kissed him again. Then again. They kissed until they couldn't stand up anymore and sank to the ground. Masaki parted his knees so they could fit together and still cling to each other.

Once Tatsuya was so hard he was aching, he broke the kiss. "My limbic system was destroyed during a surgery when I was six." The confession just fell out of him like a stone. "Afterward, I felt very little at all. I don't possess the ability to feel strong emotions, such as panic, hatred, disgust, despair, or love. My strongest remaining emotion is toward Miyuki."

"I see," Masaki whispered. He reached up and caressed Tatsuya's cheek.

"That's why I'm not sure what this emotion is. Or whether it can be anything other than a chemical reaction." Despite himself, Tatsuya leaned his face into the tender touch.

"I'm not worried about it," Masaki said. "You can have as much time as you need to figure out what you're feeling. It's not like we're capable of marrying each other. There's no rush."

Tatsuya reached up and caressed Masaki's face in return. "I don't know what marriage would have to do with it, but I appreciate your willingness to give me space." Masaki's face was surprisingly soft. Tatsuya could smell the remnants of aftershave on Masaki, so he knew he had to shave. But his skin remained smooth, and he had no stubble. _Did you shave again just to come meet me?_ The thought somehow made Tatsuya feel flattered.

"I would be an asshole if I didn't." Masaki smiled. "Do you still have my number from last year?" They'd traded numbers while dealing with the fiasco that was Zhou Yu.

"I do."

Masaki pressed a chaste kiss to Tatsuya's lips. "Call me. Text me. Vid-chat. Whatever. If I'm going to kiss you over and over again, I want to know you better." He grinned.

Tatsuya laughed. His insides squirmed in a way he didn't recognize. "Right. Of course."

They transferred to the bench. The hot chocolates were lukewarm now, but they still tasted fine. Masaki opened the bag of pastries, then took Tatsuya's hand. That simple action filled Tatsuya's body with warmth.

They shared a quiet snack, hands clasped, watching the moonlight reflect off the pond.

* * *

The following night, Tatsuya joined Miyuki in their living room. She was sitting on the couch, reading her tablet, and he settled beside her. Once again, he was conscious that remaining side-by-side, instead of sitting face-to-face, would reduce the most basic felt sense that this was a confrontation. He could only hope it would help in this case.

"I must speak with you," he murmured.

Miyuki set her tablet on the coffee table and smiled. "Certainly, Tatsuya-sama." She took his hand and squeezed it.

"You are aware of my difficulty—if not impossibility—in experiencing strong emotions." Tatsuya could hear the questing nature in his tone of voice. "But I pride myself on adapting to my life as I have it. I don't permit myself to obsess about what I don't have, and I do my best to actualize what I do have."

Miyuki squeezed his hand again. "Yes. You're very brave."

"In all my life, I have found my strongest emotions are centered around you," Tatsuya continued, gazing into Miyuki's blue eyes. "Protecting you. Caring for you. And in a worst case scenario, feeling actual fear or anger over people hurting you or attempting to hurt you." He would never—could never—forget the terror he'd felt at age thirteen when Miyuki had nearly died, nor the resulting rage when he'd avenged her. He had never felt anything like it—before or since. The closest he'd come had been the night he killed the No Head Dragons.

A deep blush stained Miyuki's cheeks, and she looked away, a little smile on her lips. "Yes," she murmured.

"Now I'll be marrying you. And I swear I will do all that is in my power to make you happy."

Miyuki's blush crept up into her ears. "I trust that you will make me happy, Tatsuya-sama."

"And so I have a request." Tatsuya steeled himself. "Because my emotions aren't powerful . . . if I found a way to experience a strong emotion that was pleasant and not negative, like fear or anger, I would wish to pursue it. And I would prefer to do that with your blessing."

Miyuki glanced up, eyes wide. "I want you to be happy!"

"You may not say that after I reveal the topic at hand." Tatsuya's voice was grave.

A shudder raced through Miyuki's body, and her eyes widened farther. "It's—it's not a mistress, is it?"

 _What irony._ "There is no other woman."

Miyuki relaxed and smiled again. "Oh. You scared me for a moment."

 _This isn't going to go well._ "Before I speak further, may I kiss you?" Tatsuya decided to give this another try. Lately, they had experimented with kissing, but for Tatsuya, it had been just that: an experiment. He couldn't shake the perception of Miyuki as his sister. Even though he'd accepted that he was already emotionally married to Miyuki, he hadn't managed to translate that into sexual attraction.

The blush immediately bloomed over Miyuki's face again. "A-ah, yes."

Tatsuya cupped Miyuki's cheek, tilting up her face and leaning in. She closed her eyes, her blush traveling down her neck, and her lips parted faintly. He could hear her breathing speeding up. He pressed his lips against hers and let his eyes drift shut.

Using the experience he'd just gained, Tatsuya mouthed Miyuki's lips, which were even softer than Masaki's. He ran one arm around her waist and slipped his opposite hand behind her head, cupping and supporting. A little moan escaped Miyuki, and he could feel her trembling in his arms. _So shy,_ he noted. _And probably feeling that same overwhelming surge of burning arousal that I did last night._

Tatsuya mouthed Miyuki's lips gently, easing her into relaxation, and listened to her soft moans. Then he slowly slid his tongue into her mouth. Miyuki emitted a muffled exclamation, and then she pressed up against his chest, her soft breasts flush to his body. She ran one arm around his shoulders. Tatsuya caressed her tongue until she figured out how to respond, and then she caressed his in return.

When Tatsuya pulled back, Miyuki was breathless, flushed, and nearly vibrating in his embrace. "Ta-Tatsuya-sama . . . "

Tatsuya assessed himself. He had managed to stir halfway hard. His pulse was slightly elevated. The kiss had been pleasant. He was willing to do it again.

It still wasn't the burning raw passion he felt with Masaki.

Tatsuya closed his eyes and fought off a sigh of frustration. _You are the only woman I even_ could _bring myself to marry. I know it. I feel attachment to you. Affection. Care. Protectiveness. I experience strange, warm stirrings in my chest when you say you love me. But I don't feel sexually attracted to you. Is that fair?_

Miyuki took a deep breath. "That was . . ." She gazed up at him and smiled. "Wonderful," she finished in a whisper.

Tatsuya nearly abandoned his plan right then and there. _I can't tell you about Masaki. You'll be crushed._

Her brow furrowed. "So what was your request?"

 _Shit._ "I must be transparent with you. Open. Honest." Tatsuya fought with himself, then forced himself to continue. "I'm still struggling with seeing you as a sexual being. I _am_ capable of feeling arousal; I discovered that at age fifteen. But it's not easy for me." He was certainly incapable of lust. "If I could explore that side of myself—not with another woman—but if I could, and if it helped me solidify my sexuality . . . if it made me happy . . . would you bless it?"

"You still struggle?" Miyuki looked away, a little frown on her lips. "But that kiss was beautiful."

"Yes," Tatsuya agreed.

She took a deep breath and peered up at him. "If you didn't explore . . . things . . . with another woman, how would you explore?" She grimaced. "I can't believe that you would order one of those sex toy robots."

"No. Definitely not."

Miyuki's eyes widened. "Sex videos? I've heard those kinds of websites still exist, but they will infect your computer with all sorts of viruses and worms."

"I couldn't submit my computer to such abuse," Tatsuya said in all seriousness.

"I'm confused, then."

Tatsuya forced himself not to look away. "A man."

Miyuki shot off the couch. "A man!" She drew her arms up to her chest. "But Onii-sama! That's deviant!"

He knew he'd upset her if she reverted to calling him "brother." He held up both hands. "I will forward you the articles I have read on this topic. They will challenge your thinking, just as they challenged mine."

"But a man could pass you an STI!" Miyuki pressed one fist to her lips.

"So could a woman."

Miyuki looked away. "Right. True."

"As of yet, I have no desire to try anything other than kissing," Tatsuya admitted.

Miyuki lowered her fist and crossed her arms over her stomach. "Then you have a man in mind?"

"Yes."

She tightened her arms. "Have you . . . have you kissed this man already?"

"I have. Last night." At this point, Tatsuya didn't dare tell her about the previous time. He could see her psions swirling. The air around them was growing colder.

Ice seeped out from under Miyuki's feet, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Who is it!"

"Ichijou Masaki."

Miyuki's eyes flew open. The ice vanished. She stared at him with wide, wide eyes. "Ichijou-san?"

Tatsuya nodded.

Miyuki's shoulders slumped. "Oh."

A long silence descended upon them.

Miyuki stared at the floor, unmoving.

Finally she spoke. "I suppose . . . he is a handsome man. I never thought _you_ would think so."

"I'm not really focused on it," Tatsuya said. "Objectively, he is aesthetically appealing. But that wasn't what spurred me to kiss him."

Miyuki's face crumpled. "What did?" Her voice was mangled. Tears collected on her eyelashes.

"His show of intelligence, critical thinking, and warmth toward me."

Another long silence descended upon them.

Miyuki took a deep breath, although it stuttered. "You think . . . kissing him will help you with issues of sexuality?"

"Yes."

"I don't understand how that would work, but . . . you think it will make you happy?"

"Possibly."

Miyuki pressed her hand to her lips. Then, suddenly, her shoulders straightened and she lifted her chin. She met Tatsuya's gaze. "If it were a woman, I couldn't bear it. I want you to only have eyes for me."

Tatsuya wasn't surprised to hear that.

"But you cannot marry Ichijou Masaki, nor can you conceive children with him. He can't give you what I can. Between Ichijou-san and me, there is no overlap."

"True."

"I will be your wife," Miyuki said, her energy shifting to that of determination. "I will cook you delicious meals. I will fix you _real_ coffee to enjoy in the morning or at the end of a long, hard day. I will get accepted into Magic University and prove I am worthy of you. And I will love you all day every day."

Tatsuya inclined his head. He knew those things to be true because Miyuki already did them. In fact, Miyuki was so dedicated to making "real" food via old-fashioned cooking that she had even competed with Minami to make sure she still did it after Minami had moved in and become Miyuki's maid/bodyguard.

"So if Ichijou-san helps you resolve issues of arousal—somehow—and it makes you happy, then I will be happy for you." Miyuki walked back over to the couch and sat, taking Tatsuya's hand.

Tatsuya studied her for a solid minute, but he could tell she wasn't lying. "Thank you, Miyuki. I didn't want to fight with you about this."

Miyuki offered him a small smile. "I care about your wellbeing, Tatsuya-sama. I can't say this wasn't a nasty shock, because it was, but I want you to live a full life."

Tatsuya relaxed and squeezed her hand.


	4. Blood and Magic

_**A/N:** At this point I would like to say I'm mixing the anime and light novel together. The anime implies that Tatsuya has less emotions than he actually possesses in the light novel. If you haven't read the translations, then if you ever do, you'll be surprised at how much more alive the characters are. The anime doesn't really do this series justice. At any rate, I'm trying to blend Anime Tatsuya and LN Tatsuya together in this story._

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 **Blood and Magic**

For the first week after the Thesis Competition, Tatsuya and Masaki talked roughly every other day. Sometimes it was vid-chat, sometimes audio only. Occasionally just text. Their number one shared interest was motorcycles, although they also shared tastes in movies, music, and even books. Not that either one of them had much time to read.

By the second week, they were talking every day. This included a lot of picture sharing of motorcycles as well as some video sharing of cool music the other hadn't heard of. The topic of baseball also floated around in the background.

Therefore, when Masaki called Tatsuya late on Friday night at the end of the second week, Tatsuya wasn't surprised. Masaki had learned that Tatsuya was a night owl and tended to never go to bed before midnight.

The video feed popped up on Tatsuya's computer monitor. He was in the basement at his terminal. "Hey, Masaki."

Masaki was frowning. Grim, even. "Hey, Tatsuya. You know how we were just so sure that some terrorist or spy would attack the Thesis Competition?"

"Yes . . .?"

"Someone stole Jouji's machine." Masaki's eyes narrowed. "Well, his team's machine, I should say. At any rate, three hours ago they stole it right out of the Third High research labs."

Tatsuya minimized the program he'd been working on and gave his full attention to the problem. "I assume your school has top-tier security."

"You assume correctly."

Tatsuya did not like the sound of this. "Was Kichijouji present when the thieves came?"

Masaki shook his head. "Two other students were working late, but they never saw a thing. Not even a single alarm went off."

"Not good." Tatsuya tried to think who would have the ability to mask themselves so well. "Did the machine have a tracking program in it? Or tracking hardware?"

"Yes." Masaki reached out, presumably pushing a button on his monitor. "I'm sending you the tracking information. We can assume the thieves are trying to figure out how to dismantle the hardware and erase the software, so we probably won't have a tracking signal for much longer."

Tatsuya accepted the download and studied the map. "It's already here in Tokyo. In fact, that's not too far from my house. Perhaps thirty minutes if I go by motorcycle."

Masaki nodded. "I'm coming by the Hokuriku Shinkansen." It was such a high-speed train that he could make the trip in two hours. "My train departs in half an hour."

"But we likely don't have even that much time." Tatsuya stood. "I'll go to this location. If I can handle it alone, I will. If not, I'll reconnoiter the area and the personnel, and then we can go in together once you arrive."

"Right. Thanks, Tatsuya."

Tatsuya inclined his head. "No problem." He severed their connection and headed out.

At this point, he was willing to believe that Masaki would do the same for him if the situation were reversed.

* * *

0300 hours found Tatsuya and Masaki crouched behind a row of bushes outside of a twenty-foot-high chain link fence. Beyond the fence was a massive wasteland of concrete filled with nothing more than a few abandoned semi-tractor trailers, an industrial garbage bin, and some crates. Beyond that was their target: a seven-story-tall steel construction that had once been an office building. Only two security lights lit this side of the building.

"The joys of urban decay," Masaki drawled.

"There are over three hundred people inside," Tatsuya said. "And a team of guards passes through once every five minutes. I've been able to identify four different security teams so far."

Masaki nodded. "Were you able to discover what organization they're with?"

"I captured a few pictures of the personnel and ran an internet search," Tatsuya said. "They're known environmental terrorists."

"Lucky us."

Tatsuya snorted. "So it would seem. At least we have the cover of night. I suspect they intend to board the machine on a freighter before dawn and send it overseas to their parent organization—wherever that is."

"Oh, hell no." Masaki drew his CAD and adjusted the settings.

"I figured you'd say that." Tatsuya drew his guns as well. "The machine is on the third floor." He created a hole in the fence—one barely big enough for them to fit through. "Let's do this."

Using the semis as cover, they ran from point to point, trying not to be seen. The guards hadn't come through again, so they made it to the door. This time, Masaki did the honors, blowing the door open. They made it all the way to the stairwell before all hell broke loose.

For ten minutes, Tatsuya was squarely in the moment, dancing the dance of magic and blood. Masaki was at his side. Both of them were firing nearly nonstop, aiming to incapacitate and not kill. Exploded rifle parts bounced off the floors and walls. Blood splatters decorated the stairs and hallways.

By the time they reached the third floor, both Masaki and Tatsuya were covered in other people's blood. Behind them were screams of pain.

The third floor was mostly open space, the cubicles, desks, and chairs long gone. A dozen men surrounded a crate near the elevator, all of them armed with semi-automatic rifles. Behind them stood a tall, thin Caucasian man dressed in solid white. He was pale-skinned and had black hair, and he wore a thick mustache. Tatsuya estimated the man to be in his early forties.

"To think that such young men would be causing me a problem, yes?" the man sighed. His Japanese was thick with a Soviet accent. "You must be such talented magicians, yes?" He lifted his hand, revealing he wore white gloves as well. "Enough of this, yes?" He snapped his fingers. A flash of psions erupted from his hand.

Tatsuya and Masaki immediately opened fire, Tatsuya dismantling the rifles and Masaki shredding various limbs with a reduced version of Rupture. Tatsuya caught Masaki's interference armor flashing repeatedly as the enemies' bullets bounced off it. Tatsuya himself destroyed the bullets before they reached him.

All the commotion halted abruptly. A dozen wounded men rolled on the ground, bleeding and wailing. The man in white had vanished.

"We'll see him again," Masaki muttered.

"No doubt." Tatsuya started making phone calls, starting with the police.

Masaki verified that Kichijouji's machine was in the crate, and satisfied, called his boyfriend with the good news.

* * *

Shortly after dawn, Tatsuya found himself at the house Masaki's father had built in Tokyo some ten years earlier. Since the house wasn't much more than a vacation home or business stopover spot, it wasn't maintained by a daily staff and relied mostly on automation. This meant they were alone and on their own. Neither one of them really wanted to face replicated food, although of course the house was fixed with the necessary automation for that.

Masaki solved the problem by getting them takeout: pizza.

They collapsed on the couch, two large boxes on the table before them, and flipped on the TV, which they then muted. The show they found on the streaming video service was one showcasing vintage cars and motorcycles. They glanced at it from time to time as they talked. Masaki was tearing his way through the seafood mix pizza, and Tatsuya applied himself to the teriyaki chicken one.

"You let me see more of your magic today than ever before," Masaki said, taking a swig of his canned green tea.

Tatsuya glanced at the TV, catching sight of a fully restored Harley Davidson motorcycle from 2043. "Yes." He had extended more trust to Masaki, but part of him was uncomfortable with it.

Masaki just grinned at him. "Bad situation aside, it was cool. We have to admit we make a good team."

 _How to woo Shiba Tatsuya,_ Tatsuya thought to himself with some amusement. _Number one: enjoy working alongside Shiba._ He offered Masaki a small smile.

Masaki's phone beeped, and he checked it. "The Ichijou information network has gotten a hit on the identity of that Soviet man. His name is Vadim Petrov." He held out the phone for Tatsuya to see. "And here's the name of the terrorist organization."

Tatsuya glanced at the screen, which read "Новый Мир проницательность."

"That translates into . . ." Masaki pulled the phone back and hit a button. "New World Vision or New World Insight."

"Sounds very noble," Tatsuya said, "except I know it's not. I've heard of them. They're responsible for over five hundred Soviet civilian deaths."

Masaki snorted. "Yeah. So noble." He set down his phone. "In short, we need to watch out for Soviet men wearing white."

"And Soviet ships. And Chinese madmen named after ancient generals. And possessed people-puppets. And organizations pretending to rally around equality."

Masaki groaned and picked up another piece of pizza. "And a dozen other crazy political freaks. I don't know if we should be laughing or crying."

Tatsuya sank back into the couch, relaxing for the first time in days. "Might as well laugh."

They fell into companionable silence as the TV screen filled with a whole line of antique Harleys: a 2058, a 2044, a 2039, and a 2021. They even got to see an up-close shot of a restored 2014 Electra Glide Ultra Limited.

" _Nice_ ," Masaki said in English. "Bet that one's worth a fortune."

"You know it." Tatsuya took a sip of his iced coffee.

"Just to give that one a test ride. Even once," Masaki sighed.

Tatsuya was hit with the enjoyable but mundane nature of the conversation. For a moment they were nothing more than third year high school boys who loved motorcycles. Just for a few seconds, he could feel normal.

The pleasant sensation washed through Tatsuya, bringing with it a growing awareness of his situation. He was in a house. Alone. With Masaki. No one else could walk in on them. No one should be calling, given Miyuki knew where he was. And they were sitting on the couch, only a half a cushion between them.

The need to kiss Masaki erupted through Tatsuya. He was so distracted by it that he lost interest in his final piece of pizza.

Masaki seemed to be focused on the TV show for the moment. He sipped his green tea, his gaze pinned to a crimson motorcycle.

Tatsuya experienced a flash of frustration. _How do I get his attention? How do I tell him I want to . . . do things? How do I initiate?_ With Miyuki, he just straightforwardly told her what he wished to do and then asked her permission to do it. But somehow that didn't seem doable with Masaki. _Shouldn't it be?_ he quizzed himself. And yet there he was, silent and frustrated.

"Done?" Masaki asked, gesturing to the pizza boxes.

Tatsuya nodded. _Do I have to go home now? If I have to go home without kissing you, I'm going to be genuinely irritated. Why does this have to be so awkward?_

Masaki closed the lids on the boxes, each one still containing a few pieces. Then he kicked back the rest of his green tea.

As Tatsuya watched, he realized he'd tensed up again. _Make a move, Shiba. He's not going to punch you._

Masaki turned toward Tatsuya and smiled. A blush rose to his cheeks. "Would you like to . . . stay for awhile?"

 _Even as bashful as you are about these things, you're still more graceful about it than I am._ Tatsuya sighed. "Yes."

"Good." Masaki sounded relieved. He turned off the TV. Then he scooted closer, eliminating the distance between them, and slipped an arm around Tatsuya's shoulders.

Tatsuya couldn't figure out where to stick his arm. He ended up sliding it behind Masaki's waist, but that trapped it against the couch.

"Uncomfortable?" Masaki asked.

"Yeah." Tatsuya hadn't been navigating these things with Miyuki. He always put his arm around her shoulders, and then she just pressed up against his side. But that wasn't going to work for him in this situation.

Masaki gazed at the wall, eyes narrowed in thought. "Well, one of us could lie down or recline on the couch and basically become a pillow for the other one. If the couch is too narrow, we could use a bed." He focused on Tatsuya again. "If you're comfortable being on a bed with me, that is."

Tatsuya got a mental picture of Masaki reclining on a couch holding Kichijouji, but Kichijouji was roughly half a foot shorter than he was and much smaller. "We might not fit on the couch," he admitted. "Who would be the pillow?"

Masaki shrugged. "We could take turns."

For the sake of his sanity, Tatsuya decided to go first. "All right. I am a pillow."

Masaki chuckled at the turn of phrase. "Okay. Are we attempting the couch?"

"Sure."

They rearranged themselves, Tatsuya stuffing the throw pillows behind his back and leaning against the couch arm. He stretched one leg down the cushions; it barely fit. He bent his other leg so he could rest his foot on the floor.

Masaki waited until Tatsuya got settled and then climbed on, situating himself on his side between Tatsuya's legs.

Suddenly Tatsuya found himself hugging Masaki to his chest, Masaki's head resting on his shoulder. The position, while simple, provoked a sense of intimacy in him. Warmth spread through his body. _Why a man?_ he found himself wondering again. And yet the feeling was so rare he couldn't condemn himself, much less deny himself.

Masaki let out a contented sigh. "Comfortable now?"

"Yes. Much better." Tatsuya stroked Masaki's back slowly. Part of him was surprised that Masaki so readily agreed to be held this way, but then again, Masaki had had two and a half months to date Kichijouji and adjust to whatever being a lover meant.

Tatsuya could feel the tension easing out of Masaki's body. He felt flattered that he could have this effect on Masaki, especially when Masaki was such a dedicated warrior type.

 _Is this just chemical?_ Tatsuya quizzed himself as his body adjusted to Masaki's warmth and weight. It was incredibly pleasant. _Is this really just a matter of hormones and my pituitary gland?_ He continued to stroke Masaki's back, and he realized he liked doing it. _Or can I offer more?_

It hit Tatsuya that the mere fact he wanted to offer Masaki and Miyuki more had to mean something in and of itself. _I'm certainly not indifferent to them and their feelings. I care about their happiness. I've felt that way about Miyuki for a long time now._

Several minutes of silence passed as they relaxed together. Tatsuya enjoyed the embrace, but his mind was inching more and more toward kissing. He wondered if he should chastise himself for being so focused on making out, but given Masaki's behavior thus far, Tatsuya doubted he would mind.

Sure enough, Masaki lifted his head and gave Tatsuya an impish smile.

That was all the invitation Tatsuya needed. He kissed him.

A little moan escaped Masaki, and Tatsuya responded by slipping his tongue into his mouth, caressing. Masaki pressed into the kiss, caressing Tatsuya's tongue in return. That same lightning bolt of arousal crashed through Tatsuya, making him fully hard. He tightened his arm around Masaki's waist and cupped his cheek, kissing him deeply and listening to Masaki's soft moans.

Then Tatsuya felt himself pouring passion into Masaki. He explored Masaki's mouth with the same intense, thorough gentleness that Masaki had used with him two weeks earlier. The sound of Masaki's gradually deepening moans caused Tatsuya to create a wet spot on his underwear, and he wanted to hear more. More of Masaki's pleasure. He kissed Masaki until Masaki was breathless and broke the kiss.

"You get more passionate each time," Masaki murmured.

Tatsuya admired the flush on Masaki's face. He caressed his warm cheek. "So it would seem."

Masaki laughed. "What a bland response after such a hot kiss!"

Tatsuya laughed also. "Well, I'm not the most expressive person alive." He fell silent, struggling with himself. "Is there . . . another spot I may kiss that would feel as good? Better, even?"

"Ah . . . yes." Masaki pointed to his neck.

Without a second thought, Tatsuya shifted, moving them off the couch. They half-fell onto the floor between the couch and the coffee table, Masaki underneath Tatsuya. Tatsuya settled on top of Masaki and then leaned in. Masaki was wearing a plain black t-shirt, so Tatsuya had access to the entire expanse of his neck. He set to work, mouthing the soft, warm skin.

Masaki ran both arms around Tatsuya's waist, embracing him, and tilted his head to the side, gasping softly.

 _Oh god, yes._ Tatsuya reacted on pure instinct, lapping up the arch of Masaki's neck. Under him, Masaki moaned, louder this time, and Tatsuya's body responded with pounding arousal. The surge was so powerful that Tatsuya emotionally yanked backward, spooked by his own reaction and losing the sensation in the process.

Frustrated, Tatsuya continued without pausing, determined to hide his emotional withdrawal. He sucked and licked Masaki's neck. Masaki's next moan was sharper, and he ran one hand up Tatsuya's spine. Tatsuya's desire slowly returned, seeping back into his muscles. He could feel himself leaking now. _It's okay, body,_ he thought to himself. _You can do this. You're allowed. You have permission._

Tatsuya slid one hand underneath Masaki's neck, supporting it, and then lifted slightly, exposing more skin. He kissed and lapped and sucked, listening to the sound of Masaki's moans. _I want to do this. I don't want to give it up. I don't want to fail._ Tatsuya's fingers tightened on Masaki's neck as the need broke through his usual reserve, and he nibbled the skin. _Masaki, continue to permit it. Please._

Masaki cried out, clutching Tatsuya to him. The arousal that slammed through Tatsuya in that moment made him gasp. He did it again—mouthing the damp skin and applying his teeth lightly—and moaned when Masaki cried out once more.

And then something happened to Tatsuya that had never happened before: he imagined making love to someone. Before, he'd visualized such things as a matter of vague curiosity. This time vision of it came to Tatsuya spontaneously and filled with passion. He saw himself making love to Masaki, and Masaki crying out this way.

Tatsuya paused, panting, and had to catch his breath. He throbbed and ached. "Masaki . . ."

Masaki panted as well. "God, Tatsuya."

The need inside of Tatsuya surged again, and he pressed a kiss to Masaki's lips, mouthing gently. He could feel how hard Masaki was, considering they were pressed together. _I don't have to second guess my effect on you._

When Tatsuya pulled back, Masaki spoke. "Would you like to have your neck kissed now?"

 _I might not feel anything._ Tatsuya nearly sighed at how quick his concern was to surface. "Sure. It might not be a strong spot for me, though."

"That's okay." Masaki shrugged one shoulder. "Everyone has different spots. Necks are common ones, but it's hardly universal."

Tatsuya relaxed at how laidback and understanding Masaki was about these things, but his concern didn't abate. _What if I don't have any strong spots? I feel lucky to have experienced this level of arousal at all. It seems somehow impossible that I should have an erogenous zone, too. Aren't I destined to be denied such things?_

Masaki pushed the coffee table a few feet away, and they traded places.

Tatsuya settled on the floor, vaguely tense. _But I want to feel something. I'm tired of everything being muted. Others get access to their full range of emotions. I want to experience more—especially since it will add to Miyuki's happiness when we marry._

Masaki lay over him, his body warm and pleasantly heavy. For Tatsuya, it was almost like being shielded. Masaki smiled at Tatsuya and caressed his cheek.

"Don't over-think it," Masaki murmured. He kissed Tatsuya's lips and then unbuttoned the top two buttons of Tatsuya's shirt.

 _Right._ Tatsuya willed himself to relax, using a biofeedback technique he'd learned from his master.

Masaki slid his hand under Tatsuya's neck, cupping it, and leaned in, pressing a line of kisses down his neck.

Tatsuya wrapped his arms around Masaki's waist and let his eyes drift shut. The sensation was nice, and he could feel Masaki's care in it. A few faint goosebumps filtered down his spine from the way Masaki clasped the back of his neck, but it wasn't the burning wave of arousal. Still, he tilted his head to the side to give Masaki more room.

Masaki made his way back upward, sucking and lapping. A slow warmth bloomed inside Tatsuya's body, and he schooled himself to be patient. _Maybe he just hasn't reached the right spot yet. Or maybe I'm still too tense. Wait, am I over-thinking this now?_

When Masaki reached Tatsuya's ear, he captured his earlobe and sucked on it. Tatsuya gasped, having not expected it, and felt a strange swirling or pressurizing in his chest. Then Masaki dipped his tongue into the shell of Tatsuya's ear, giving him a little lick.

Tatsuya jerked under Masaki, the lightning strike of arousal three times stronger than it had been before. He felt the need to cry out from the pleasure, but it made him feel too vulnerable, too exposed. Even embarrassed. His tenuous connection to his emotions snapped in half, leaving him flat and numb.

Once again frustrated, Tatsuya said nothing and tried to refocus his attention on Masaki's efforts. He had reconnected earlier, so maybe he could reconnect now. "Try that again," he whispered.

Masaki immediately licked up the rim of his ear, and then he expanded, sucking on the earlobe, lapping inside the shell, and even nibbling on the cartilage.

Tatsuya willed himself to relax once more. He tried to not think; he tried to pour all his attention into the pleasant physical sensations. He wanted to make this work.

The flat numbness remained. Tatsuya had felt this feeling—this non-feeling—so many times he knew what it meant.

"I lost it," he had to admit. A flash of irritation fired through the deadness. _Dammit, it was there for a moment! But just a moment._

Masaki pulled back, propping himself on his elbows so he could meet Tatsuya's gaze. A look of concern washed over his features, furrowing his brow. "I'm sorry. What do you want to do?"

"It would be best to stop for now." Tatsuya didn't want to cave in to the defeat, but he knew from other, non-sexual situations that it was the best course of action. "I apologize for the abrupt ending."

Masaki caressed Tatsuya's cheek. "Don't apologize. I'd love to say sexual things are always awesome and work one hundred percent of the time, but that's just not true. Jouji and I have learned that already. Sometimes it's a bumpy ride. And sometimes it just flops." He cringed. "Exhaustion, stress, interruptions . . . things just go wrong at times."

Tatsuya's vague irritation eased away. He gave Masaki a small smile. _Under all that gung-ho fighting spirit and competitiveness is an honorable guy. I could even say you're sweet. You try to hide it, don't you? You don't feel like you're allowed to own it, I bet. But for me, this trait of yours is lucky._ "I'm glad you're not an asshole about these things."

Masaki laughed. "God, no. I can't even imagine." He climbed off of Tatsuya and gave him a hand up. Then he moved the coffee table back into place.

Tatsuya wasn't sure what to do with himself and stood by the couch. Now that their sexual experiment had failed on his side, was he supposed to leave? He did need to sleep, and what other possible use could Masaki have for wanting him here?

Still without a word of complaint, Masaki plopped onto the couch and patted the cushion beside him. "You can crash here longer if you like. You're welcome to. Or you can go back home to your own bed if you need to."

Tatsuya felt a weird squirmy sensation in his chest, just as he had a few weeks earlier. He still didn't know what it meant. He flopped down by Masaki, and Masaki turned the TV back on, resuming the show they'd been watching. Then he reached out and took Tatsuya's hand, holding it gently.

Tatsuya sank into the couch and relaxed _._ Masaki's hand was warm. _It would seem that you have no intention of merely using me for sex. And Miyuki loves me. But if I can't fully access my emotions or if I disconnect on the rare occasions I do have a strong emotion, how can I ever make either of you happy?_

 _I don't want to lose my bond to Miyuki or my fledgling bond to Masaki. I spent my entire childhood with no bonds at all. I can't afford to lose something so rare and precious._

With grim determination, Tatsuya decided it was time to research the limbic system and maybe even see a surgeon. Failure was just not an option.


	5. The Revelation

**Chapter 5**

 **The Revelation**

The day after Masaki returned home, Tatsuya felt what was for him a fair case of irritability. To everyone else it just looked like he was frowning too much. To Tatsuya it felt like having sandpaper rubbed all over his internal organs. He wandered around the house, his mind tumbling over words like "boyfriend," "fiancé," "husband," and "marriage."

On Monday, in the middle of an engineering assignment, he found himself imagining being ten years older and having two children with Miyuki. He found the daydream made him smile slightly and feel warmth.

Then he imagined only seeing Masaki once a year, maybe twice, at clan head meetings, where all they could discuss was business. And even then, Miyuki would be the one doing most of the talking. This left Tatsuya feeling cold.

Tatsuya wasn't used to the semi-emotional rollercoaster.

Lunchtime found Tatsuya researching ethical polyamory.

Suppertime found Tatsuya making good on his resolve to research the limbic system.

Miyuki sat across the table from him, watching him eat and read his tablet at the same time. "Your frown is getting more and more pronounced. What's upsetting you?"

Tatsuya lowered the tablet and met her gaze. His insides felt like they were vibrating. "I think I've been vastly misled. Our mother and aunt destroyed my limbic system during the surgery, they said, including my amygdala. So now I can't feel strong emotions. Supposedly."

"But?" Miyuki prompted, her brow furrowing. She'd grown pale, even for her.

"But if that were true, I would lack the capacity to respond to any physical threats—ones aimed at you or at me. If that were true, I would have trouble forming or processing memories." Tatsuya held up the tablet without looking at it. His fingers were numb. "It turns out there are two amygdala, one on each side of the brain, and they're related to decision making, the processing of memories, emotional reactions, and the sex drive. They are most associated with emotions relating to fear and aggression, and their purpose is to assist us in survival."

Miyuki stared. "You mean . . . your limbic system isn't damaged to the extent our mother and aunt said?"

"Yes." Tatsuya handed Miyuki his tablet. "Read this."

Miyuki accepted the tablet and scrolled down the article, which had been written by a researcher in psychology. It summed up the issue for her:

" _T_ _he idea that the amygdala is the home of fear in the brain is just that—an idea. It is not a scientific finding but instead a conclusion based on an interpretation of a finding. So what is the finding, what is the interpretation, and how did the interpretation come about?_

"The Finding: _When the amygdala is damaged, previously threatening stimuli come to be treated as benign._ _The classic discovery was that monkeys with amygdala damage were 'tamed;' snakes, for example, no longer elicited so-called fight-flight responses after amygdala damage. Similar circuits were found to be operative when the human brain processes threats._

"The Interpretation: _Since damage to the amygdala eliminates behavioral responses to threats, feelings of 'fear' are products of the amygdala._ _People are indeed less responsive to threats when the amygdala is damaged, yet these people can still experience (feel) 'fear.' In other words, the amygdala is an important part of the circuit that allows the brain to detect and respond to threats but is not necessary to feel 'fear.'_

" _Be suspicious of any statement that says a brain area is a center responsible for some function. The notion of functions being products of brain areas or centers is left over from the days when most evidence about brain function was based on the effects of brain lesions localized to specific areas. Today, we think of functions as products of systems rather than of areas. Neurons in areas contribute because they are part of a system. Amygdala neurons, for example, are also components of systems that process the significance of stimuli related to eating, drinking, sex, and addictive drugs._ _" [2]_

Miyuki set down the tablet.

Tatsuya and Miyuki stared at each other in silence.

"It's true that I seem to lack the joy from eating and drinking that could make me tend toward gluttony," Tatsuya murmured. He felt as though he were in the middle of an earthquake and trying to cross a room to the door lintel for protection. The entire floor seemed to bounce under his mental feet. "And although my ability to feel arousal has always been muted, it's still present." _Especially for a few recent occasions._ "I don't feel panic or hatred. I don't engage in acts of violent aggression outside of a military situation. It sounds like I do have some damage to my amygdala and my limbic system in general."

Miyuki bowed her head. "I wish you had not been hurt so."

Tatsuya picked up the tablet again. "But emotion is more than just the limbic system. Also involved are the prefrontal cortex and the ventral tegmental area." He pulled up another article. "On top of that, the insula and the striatum are associated with sexual desire and love."

"So your emotions aren't solely dependent on your limbic system?" Miyuki met his gaze, eyes wide. "Including love and desire?" A sheen of tears glistened in her eyes.

"It would seem so." Tatsuya glanced at the next article. "The insula—or insulae, since there are two—also play a role in 'perception, motor control, self-awareness, cognitive functioning, and interpersonal experience.'" He set the tablet by his plate. "In short, if the damage was more wide spread than only my limbic system and included my insulae, then I would have damage to my motor control and cognitive functioning."

"That doesn't sound like you," Miyuki said. "And if I understand the first part right, if your muted emotions—and supposed total lack of all intense emotions regardless of type—were only the result of physical damage to your limbic system, you would not be able to fight as a solider or engage in an accurate threat assessment. You would also have damage to your ability to make decisions and process memories. Perhaps even to fully make memories."

Tatsuya nodded. "And, perhaps most importantly of all, there are other parts of my brain that also create emotion, especially love and desire. It's not just my limbic system."

Miyuki clasped her hands against her chest. "And in Anatomy and Physiology class, I learned that if the brain is damaged, it can sometimes shift certain functions from the damaged system over to another area." Her lower lip trembled. "You could actually be 'healing'—in a sense. Your brain could be in the process making that shift!"

Tatsuya closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He had never once considered that he could be a normal person, a full person, a whole person. _I might be able to feel love. Eventually. I might be able to love both Miyuki and Masaki._ He opened his eyes and stared into his bowl of udon noodles. "Miyuki, I want a PET scan and an MRI. I want to know what my brain is really doing."

Pushing her chair back, Miyuki shot to her feet, her fists clenched. "Yes! I will absolutely support you in that. I love you, and I want you to be happy. And if you find out that you can take back at least part of what was stolen from you, then maybe you can be truly happy!"

That warmth that Tatsuya was beginning to recognize swirled through his chest. _This is love. Muted love, but love. I think it's not hopeless after all._ "Thank you, Miyuki."

* * *

Tatsuya sat with Miyuki in the exam room, side-by-side in the chairs. Miyuki held his hand. Tatsuya could tell by the quality of her smile that she was both nervous and excited. After a careful and thorough examination of himself, Tatsuya realized he felt vaguely nervous as well.

The door opened, and Dr. Souma entered the room carrying a tablet. She was a tall woman with black hair pulled into a loose bun. She wore the typical white lab coat with a pants suit underneath. She smiled at them. "Good day, Shiba-sama, Yotsuba-sama."

"Good day, Souma-sensei," Miyuki replied, ever polite.

Dr. Souma settled on a rolling stool by the miniature desk just inside the door. "We have your results. I think you will find them enlightening."

Miyuki squeezed Tatsuya's hand.

"It's true that you have lesions on both your amygdala," Dr. Souma said, punching a code into her tablet. The MRI and PET scan showed up side-by-side on the screen over the little desk. "The lesions are consistent with damage from a surgery. And there is decreased blood flow and activity to your limbic system in general—but not dangerously so. To give you a ballpark figure, I would say your limbic system is working at eighty percent efficiency and your two amygdala at seventy percent."

Tatsuya stared at her. "That's not optimal, but—"

"—it's hardly wiped out!" Miyuki finished for him.

Dr. Souma inclined her head in agreement. "And the insular cortex shows roughly a ten percent increase—above average—in both blood flow and activity."

Tatsuya and Miyuki traded glances. Tears of happiness stood in Miyuki's eyes.

"While some emotional muting may be unavoidable," Dr. Souma said, "you likely have more of a physical capacity for emotion than you're currently experiencing. And that suggests emotional and cognitive blocking on your part, perhaps due to trauma. Perhaps even Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." She typed quick notes into her tablet. "I'm referring you to a therapist I trust, one who specializes in PTSD. If you truly wish to maximize your responses to emotional stimuli—and control the emotional responses once you have them—then you'll need therapy. Perhaps EMDR therapy."

Tatsuya had never once considered such an option. Therapy had always been something for other people. He wasn't thrilled, but his only thought was _If I do that, then I can't let Maya find out._

Miyuki squeezed his hand one more time. "You should do it," she whispered. "I'll support you in that, too."

Tatsuya was left with one pressing question in that moment: Was pursuing medical and psychological assistance so that he could improve his interpersonal relationships an act of love?

* * *

By November 28th, Tatsuya had gone roughly two weeks without seeing Masaki in person, and he couldn't stand keeping quiet about the results of his tests much longer. He'd avoided discussing it because it wasn't something he wanted to talk about over vid-chat, much less over texting. He wanted to discuss this with Masaki in person, so he could see Masaki's facial expressions up close, read his full body language, and feel his energy.

He also felt actively grumpy because he'd gone so long without sharing physical touch of any kind. At this point, a simple hug from Masaki would do. The grumpiness was such an unusual emotion for him that he wasn't sure what to do with it.

But then Masaki contacted Tatsuya at 23:57 on the 28th.

Tatsuya jabbed the button to accept the vid-call and prayed Masaki would need to come to Tokyo again.

Masaki looked grim.

Tatsuya felt a flash of hope despite the no doubt dire situation. "Vadim Petrov?"

"Yes." Masaki frowned. "He was sighted in Toyama in a ruined warehouse. That's only 65 km away from my home."

"When?"

"An hour ago."

"Do you want me there?" Tatsuya asked.

"We started this," Masaki said. "Let's finish it."

Tatsuya was relieved it was the weekend. He could pull off skipping school, but he would prefer not to. "Do you want me to ride the Hokuriku Shinkansen straight to Toyama?"

"Yes. With the current traffic conditions, it'll only take me thirty minutes to get to Toyama on my motorcycle. This time I'll reconnitor first."

Tatsuya stood. "Understood. See you in two hours."

"Excellent." Masaki cut the connection.

Tatsuya swept out of his room, going to inform Miyuki and Minami about the situation.

* * *

Two hours later, Tatsuya exited the train station and found Masaki awaiting him, leaning against his crimson motorcycle. He wore a dark crimson leather coat, and a matching helmet sat on the motorcycle seat.

"As always, red," Tatsuya teased him as he walked up. Tatsuya had packed simply—his CAD case and a duffel bag of clothing, just in case. Like Masaki, he wore a leather jacket, although his was black. "I've been trying to decide for a year now if your obsession with red is because of your epithet or your school colors."

Masaki offered him a small grin. "Both. And neither. It was always my favorite color. The epithet and school colors just reinforced it."

"And Kichijouji's crimson eyes?" Tatsuya teased. He realized seeing Masaki in person had put him in a good mood, and now he couldn't help some extra ribbing.

Masaki snorted with laughter. "Fine. Call me a romantic."

Tatsuya laughed.

Masaki opened the saddlebag compartments on his motorcycle so Tatsuya could store his duffel bag. Masaki had brought a bag as well, he discovered. Getting the CAD case in on top of the bag took some smushing, but Tatsuya made it work.

As Tatsuya shut the compartment, Masaki consulted his phone. His brow furrowed. "The intel network reports loss of visual contact on Petrov."

Tatsuya turned to face him. "Not good. What did you notice during your reconnoitering?"

"Lots of spell flashes." Masaki scrolled down his phone. "There were only a hundred men, roughly. Literally all male, I mean. I haven't seen a woman yet. All with machine guns, like last time. Two large crates. And one Petrov in a white suit."

"You didn't see the spells themselves? Only the psion flashes?"

Masaki stowed his phone in his jacket pocket. "That's right. It was like they were hiding their spells from their own security cameras."

Tatsuya didn't like the sound of that. "How many cameras?"

"A dozen visible ones."

Tatsuya nodded. "Let's check it out."

Masaki hopped on his bike, and Tatsuya climbed on behind him.

The abandoned warehouse turned out to be only four minutes away. Tatsuya and Masaki hid behind the dumpster that belonged to the building next door.

"How long were you away from the site?" Tatsuya asked, scanning the area—first with his eyes, then with his magic.

"Only fifteen minutes total," Masaki said, checking his watch. "I researched the estimated time for your arrival and didn't leave to pick you up until the last possible moment."

Tatsuya frowned. "And they managed to fully pull out during those fifteen minutes."

Masaki consulted his phone again. "Yes. Confirmed. The message came in while we were riding here."

"Too suspicious," Tatsuya said. "Too convenient."

"You think they made my position?"

Tatsuya frowned. "Maybe not you specifically. But someone in your intel network. We'll never know for sure."

Masaki groaned. "Dammit."

Tatsuya held up a hand to stave off Masaki's frustration. "Petrov might be using a spell designed specifically to protect against spies. Or to escape spies." He pointed to Masaki's phone. "I assume the Ichijou network is now searching for them."

"Of course."

"Then let's find a comfortable spot to wait." Tatsuya wasn't remotely frustrated. If necessary, he could pull in his own resources to help find Petrov.

"We could return to my house," Masaki said. "But that would put us a minimum of thirty minutes away from our current position. Longer with more traffic. And we don't know what direction they went yet."

Tatsuya shook his head. "Let's find a hotel. We can split the cost."

"Sure." The irritation eased from Masaki's face, a tentative smile taking its place.

 _Yes,_ Tatsuya thought. _I want to be alone with you, too._

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Tatsuya and Masaki were settled in a hotel, and the Ichijou network had a truly spooky lack of leads on Petrov. The utter absence of intel was enough to even make Tatsuya uncomfortable.

Still, they made use of the time they had. Masaki took a shower first, and then Tatsuya followed suit. It was, after all, nearly 0300 hours in the morning.

When Tatsuya emerged from the shower, he discovered Masaki had used the room's supplies to make two cups of green tea. He'd also visited the vending machine and returned with two cups of ramen and two hot dogs.

Tatsuya sat across the little table from Masaki and dug in. "You're efficient."

"I try." Masaki grinned. "It's too late for room service, so junk food will have to suffice."

Tatsuya devoured the food without complaint, most of his attention on Masaki instead. Masaki cut quite a different figure in the hotel's robe. Somehow it underscored the breadth of Masaki's shoulders; he was built like a natural born athlete. Although Tatsuya would never ask, he suspected that Masaki was one-fourth Caucasian. His build, complexion, hair, and eyes were simply too obvious.

And then there was that little, flat mole, like an oversized freckle, decorating the left side of Masaki's neck . . .

Tatsuya found himself recalling kissing Masaki's neck and wanting to do it again—so much so he nearly didn't taste his green tea as he drank it.

Apparently Masaki caught the pointed staring because a faint blush settled high in his cheeks.

"I underwent an MRI and a PET scan," Tatsuya said abruptly. He hadn't meant to talk about his news next, but apparently he'd held onto the information just a bit too long. He found he wanted it out on the table. "The tests revealed that the damage to my limbic system isn't as severe as I was led to believe. Either that or my brain has somewhat healed in the intervening twelve years."

Masaki took a sip of his tea. "That sounds like good news. What does it mean for you?"

"I means I might be offering you more than a merely carnal relationship," Tatsuya murmured. _I wish to be able to offer you more._ He swirled his tea in his cup. "Time will tell. I certainly can't make promises. But for the first time, I can say it's not hopeless."

Masaki set down his cup and stood, stepping around the table. "I'm glad it's not hopeless. I'm not here to use you. I hope you're not here to use me." He held out his hand.

Tatsuya abandoned his cup and took Masaki's hand. The instant he stood, he pulled Masaki into an embrace. _Finally._ He held Masaki closely, resting his chin on his shoulder and closing his eyes. Masaki's body was warm and solid and muscular, just as he remembered it. Masaki's arms slipping around him were strong and welcome. Tatsuya even detected a faint scent he now associated with Masaki—almost like cedar—that could be a soap, aftershave, or cologne. _I needed this. I actually did . . . need this._

With a sigh of contentment, Masaki ran one hand up and down Tatsuya's spine slowly. He kept his other arm wrapped around Tatsuya's waist. "Better," he whispered.

Knowing Masaki also had needed this enabled Tatsuya to let go of any concerns about mutuality. He took action, slowly moving them to the nearest bed and toppling Masaki onto it. Masaki settled on the mattress, and Tatsuya climbed atop him. Immediately they kissed, mouthing each other's lips as though getting reacquainted. Then Tatsuya slipped his tongue into Masaki's mouth, kissing him deeper, caressing.

Masaki moaned softly and massaged Tatsuya's back with his long fingers. Tatsuya reveled in the sound of Masaki's pleasure, and it seemed to him that their being in bathrobes was more intimate. All Tatsuya had to do was remove the belt, and Masaki's robe would fall open. Would Masaki be wearing underwear? Or would he be naked?

Tatsuya wasn't sure if he were ready to answer that question, ready to be naked along with Masaki, but he did know he wanted to kiss Masaki's neck again. He caressed Masaki's tongue one more time and then headed downward over his jaw. The moment Tatsuya's lips found the soft, warm skin of Masaki's neck, Masaki moaned more loudly. Tatsuya applied himself with dedication, lapping up the arch of Masaki's neck and then sucking on his pulse point.

"Tatsuya," Masaki gasped, tilting his head and giving Tatsuya more room. He clutched Tatsuya's shoulder blade with one hand.

A powerful shiver raced through Tatsuya's body at the sound of his name being moaned. He couldn't imagine anything more erotic. A little moan escaped him in response, and he kissed and licked and sucked his way over the entire expanse of bared skin.

Then Tatsuya remembered nibbling on Masaki's neck before. _I want him to feel more pleasure._ He nibbled right over Masaki's pulse point, applying his teeth lightly. Under him, Masaki cried out, arching up into Tatsuya's body. Masaki's reaction made Tatsuya so hard he began to ache. "Yes," he hissed against Masaki's damp skin. He lapped over the spot and then nibbled it once more. Masaki cried out and began to squirm. Tatsuya again wondered if Masaki would be naked under the bathrobe, and he was getting more tempted to find out. He nibbled a third time, careful not to bite down too hard.

"Tatsuya!" Masaki jerked under him, moaning. "God, keep that up and I'm going to have trouble coming back down."

 _Coming down?_ Tatsuya paused, realizing what Masaki meant. "Is that a problem?" he asked honestly. "I'm not shy about these things. If you need to come at the end, that can be arranged—either by you retreating to the bathroom or by me touching you through your robe."

Masaki stared up at him with wide eyes and a faint blush. "Oh. Well . . . true."

"I surprised you?" Tatsuya asked. "Did you think I would be unwilling to touch you there?" He searched himself, wondering why he was so comfortable with the idea. He hadn't thought about it in advance, but somehow it just seemed natural. "I think it would be unfair of me to tease you into a state of frustration—technically without your prior consent—and then not be willing to help you relieve the pressure."

Masaki continued to stare for a moment, and then he laughed. "So factual."

Tatsuya had to chuckle. "Yes. Well, I think it's easier to be this factual because we're both male. I already understand how male bodies work." He imagined he might be this blunt with Miyuki, too, but he didn't exactly have a clear idea of what he would do to ease her pressure. He supposed he'd have to research it first. "But of course you have to be ready for this next step."

A long pause followed as Masaki gazed at him, his brow furrowed. "I'm not sure."

Tatsuya didn't push. It seemed inherently wrong to push, and on top of that, Masaki hadn't been pushy with him.

"I am sure I want to kiss your ear," Masaki said. "That seemed like a good spot for you, so I want us to try it again."

"Oh." Tatsuya felt heat seeping into his face, and his erection twitched. His body was definitely interested in giving it a try, but he was worried that his emotions wouldn't cooperate. "Sure." He made up his mind before he could over-think it. He rolled them over, pulling Masaki on top of him.

Masaki instantly relaxed, his brow smoothing out and a soft smile gracing his lips. "Good." He reached up and caressed Tatsuya's cheek.

With some surprise, Tatsuya realized he liked seeing that smile aimed his way. He liked the caress to his cheek. He liked Masaki's warm weight on top of him. Just like the previous time, it felt almost as though he were being shielded—as though for once someone was protecting him instead of the other way around. _Perhaps it is tiring to be the one who always protects. Maybe even a guardian deserves a break sometimes._

Not that Tatsuya could ever really turn off his guardian mode.

But the mere idea he could rest, even for a few moments, made Tatsuya relax as well. He let his eyes drift shut as Masaki cupped his cheek and tilted his head, baring his neck and ear. Then soft lips were kissing up Tatsuya's neck. Goosebumps filtered down Tatsuya's shoulder and arm from the kisses, and he sighed. It took him a moment to register that the accompanying feeling was contentment.

Then Masaki reached Tatsuya's earlobe. He captured it with his lips and sucked gently, and Tatsuya felt that deep burn down in the core of his body. The power of the feeling eclipsed all else, making his heart race and little quivers shoot down his arms and legs. The arousal seemed to sink into every fiber of his being, anchoring itself behind his bellybutton and making his erection ache. Tatsuya was so stunned by the vivid emotion that he couldn't even moan.

Masaki licked up the rim of Tatsuya's ear, his tongue hot and soft, and then he sucked on the cartilage. Tatsuya's arousal seemed to bloom through his body, a flower of fire extending its burning petals to set every nerve ablaze. Embarrassed by the strength of his reaction—just as he had been a few weeks earlier—he swallowed his moan, although his lips parted noiselessly. _Oh, god! What is this? It's like there's an entire second entity inside my body—one of immense power. One that is reaching out for this experience. One that could take control of me—my body over my mind._

But it felt so good Tatsuya couldn't bear to pull away. He wrapped his arms around Masaki's back and clutched his shoulder blades. _I want to feel something!_

 _Oh, god . . . but I'm so vulnerable._

Masaki dipped his tongue into the shell of Tatsuya's ear and gave him a little lick.

A sharp gasp escaped Tatsuya, and his hips jerked involuntarily. The wave of arousal was like a tsunami, cresting up through his chest. He wanted to cry out. He needed to cry out. It was so good . . .

Once more, Tatsuya felt his emotions disconnect with a nearly physical snapping sensation, like someone severing a rope pulled too taut. Frustration bit into him, spiking upward through the sudden deadening sensation. "Shit!"

Masaki pulled back, meeting Tatsuya's gaze, eyes wide. "What is it?"

For several moments, Tatsuya was loath to admit the truth. "I lost it again," he finally sighed.

The worried crease returned to Masaki's brow. "I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do to help with this?"

 _No,_ Tatsuya thought. _Unfortunately, I just have to make use of that therapist I was referred to._ His first appointment was in four days, and he'd been less than thrilled with the idea the whole time. But now he had to face the facts: Outside help was necessary. "Not that I know of. I assure you I am working on the problem, though." _Because failure is just not an option._

Masaki resumed caressing Tatsuya's cheek. "Well, it did seem to feel good for you for a minute there. At least you know that your ears really are a hot spot for you."

Tatsuya reached up and caressed Masaki's cheek in return. _And this is why I don't want to lose you. You actually think about me. You actually care if I'm happy._ "Yes. They are."

Masaki smiled.

Seeing that, Tatsuya couldn't let things end there. He rolled them back over, settling on top of Masaki's warm body. "Let me," he murmured, diving back in. He licked up the arch of Masaki's throat. "One of us should experience pleasure." He kissed the little mole on Masaki's neck and then sucked there, having discovered the mole marked a sensitive spot.

Masaki moaned and ran both hands up Tatsuya's spine. "I—I don't want it to be . . . one-sided!"

"I will take my pleasure from pleasuring you," Tatsuya whispered into Masaki's ear. He supposed that if he couldn't get his issue fixed, then that solution would have to suffice. He would work hard to give pleasure to both Miyuki and Masaki, making sure each of them achieved a high level of ecstasy under his care. Certainly they wouldn't complain as long as their needs were getting met, and at least Tatsuya would have the benefit of having them both be upset on his behalf over the fact his emotions had been denied him.

It was something.

It was the only thing Tatsuya had ever had, and even then, he'd only had it for five years now. Before that, he'd had nothing.

Tatsuya contented himself with this logic and sank into the sound of Masaki's moans. _They are beautiful moans—rich and deep._ He kissed and licked his way up to Masaki's ear and did for Masaki what Masaki had offered him. He sucked on his earlobe, licked up the rim, and swirled his tongue down into the shell.

Masaki cried out and squirmed under him, his back bowing off the mattress again. He clutched Tatsuya's shoulders tightly.

 _Yes,_ Tatsuya thought, gently nibbling the cartilage. _Feel something. Feel it for me. Have the experiences I can't have._

Masaki's moans escalated into a wail.

Tatsuya shivered at that wail, his erection beginning to return, and slipped one hand under Masaki, pressing their hips together. It trapped Masaki's erection against his body. _Yes, Masaki. Take in what I cannot. Moan like I cannot._ His instincts took over, and he rocked his hips faintly, rubbing their erections by sliding their bodies against each other. Through the soft material of the robe, it felt good. _Come from another's touch like I cannot._

Masaki cried out over Tatsuya's shoulder. "God! Tatsuya!"

Tatsuya felt enough warmth return to his chest, filling his lungs and wafting through his body, that he was able to let out a soft moan of his own. He switched to Masaki's other ear, lapping over it and then nibbling. He also continued to rub their hips together, determined that Masaki should get some relief. And by doing the touching indirectly, Tatsuya could offer that relief without touching Masaki's erection with his hand.

A powerful shiver ran through Masaki's hips, and he wailed again. "T-Tatsuya! You're going to—to make me—"

"Yes," Tatsuya gasped. "Please do." He lapped and sucked and nibbled, abandoning himself to the act of giving pleasure.

Masaki moaned sharply. Then his entire body snapped taut, his back bowing again, pressing his body up into Tatsuya's. For a long moment, no sound emerged from Masaki. Then he collapsed onto the mattress, seemingly boneless, and a soft moan escaped him.

Tatsuya released Masaki's ear. He could feel the wetness slowly seeping through his robe from Masaki's robe. "Good," he whispered, immensely relieved. He rested his head on Masaki's shoulder. _I have proven to you that I can, indeed, be your lover. At least in this aspect, I am a success. I'm not wasting your time._

"You didn't have to make anything up to me," Masaki murmured. He caressed Tatsuya's back slowly. "But that felt great, so thank you."

Tatsuya felt himself relax from the inside-out, as though the relaxation began in his soul. _Success twice verified._

To Tatsuya, the success was everything because it ensured he wouldn't be abandoned or tossed away. And Tatsuya knew that was the problem at hand. He could never lie to himself, could never run away from himself. And so he had to face the truth of it: He never wanted to return to a life in which he had no one and no one wanted him.

Being dedicated to someone without having that person care in return was just too painful.

* * *

 **xXx**

References

1\. Williams, John. "Definition and Function of the Amygdala." _Study_ , 2017. Accessed 29 July 2017.

2\. LeDoux, Joseph E. "The Amygdala Is _Not_ the Brain's Fear Center: Separating Findings from Conclusions." _Psychology Today,_ 10 Aug. 2015. Accessed 29 July 2017.

3\. Smithstein, Samantha. "Lust, Love, and the Brain: What is the Connection Between Desire and Love?" _Psychology Today,_ 22 June 2012. Accessed 29 July 2017.

4\. "Insular Cortex." _Wikipedia,_ 20 July 2017. Accessed 29 July 2017.


	6. Facing the Truth

**Chapter 6**

 **Facing the Truth**

Since all leads had been lost on Petrov, Tatsuya had no choice but to return home in the morning. Still, he was left with an unusual and nice experience: he had slept by Masaki's side all night.

As pleasant as that experience was, Tatsuya had what he feared would be a less pleasant experience: his first therapy appointment with one Dr. Aiko Manoru. And that appointment was just four days away.

And so it was that four days later, Tatsuya sat across from his new therapist in her office and studied her. Dr. Manoru appeared to be in her late forties or early fifties, and she'd dyed her hair an attractive shade of auburn brown. Her hair hung in a long curtain down to her waist, and she wore a fuzzy beige sweater and brown pants, which gave her an earthy appearance.

Tatsuya was glad his therapist was a woman. He honestly didn't think he could talk to a man successfully. He knew he was insulting his own kind, but he didn't imagine a man would listen to him—and his talk of his emotions—without judging him. Tatsuya supposed that was unfair of him, but he still felt that way.

Dr. Manoru had already read over Dr. Souma's notes prior to their appointment, and so she listened as Tatsuya summed up his own research about himself.

"I came to a hard realization," Tatsuya told her. "If my limbic system really had been completely wiped out, I would lack the capacity to respond to any physical threats—ones aimed at my sister or me. I would even have trouble forming memories." Tatsuya had his arms crossed over his chest, uneasy with being in a therapist's office and actually requesting help. He wasn't used to making himself so vulnerable.

"True," Dr. Manoru murmured.

Tatsuya took a deep breath and continued. "And then I learned there are two amygdala, and they're related to things such as my emotional reactions and sex drive." He glanced away. "I can tell you I possess enough threat assessment ability to protect my own life and my sister's life. I can feel fear when my sister's life is endangered—especially the one time she nearly died. And my reaction to her near death was the anger and aggression I'm supposedly incapable of."

"And your sex drive?" Dr. Manoru asked, all business.

Tatsuya felt just the slightest warmth in his cheeks. It was faint, but it was there. He saw in his mind his most recent encounter with Masaki: Masaki with his lovely, deep moans; his arched back; his flushed, handsome face; and then the resulting orgasm. "I can feel sexual desire. I'm not capable of lust. But I can desire to give others pleasure."

"Desire to give others pleasure?" Dr. Manoru echoed. "And do you desire to receive pleasure in return?"

Tatsuya both was and wasn't amazed at how blunt the female therapist was about sexual issues, given they were a mixed company. But then again, this was her job. She couldn't afford to be squeamish. "I do. Yes." _At least from Masaki, anyway_. "I wouldn't say I'm good at it."

The therapist cocked her head to the side. "Not good at it in what sense?"

A snort of embarrassment escaped Tatsuya. "My emotions only reach so far into the experience, and then they shut down." He didn't see any reason not to answer Dr. Manoru honestly. If he didn't speak up, and if he didn't tell the truth, then he was wasting his time and money coming to therapy.

"Do they shut down randomly?" Dr. Manoru asked. "Or do they shut down when you are close to orgasm?"

Tatsuya could tell he would have to push himself hard to stay open, but he plowed ahead. He wanted a real relationship with both Masaki and Miyuki, and he couldn't have it unless he allowed his therapist to assist him. "When I'm close to orgasm. Or when the pleasure starts to get high, at least." He sighed. "To be frank, it's quite frustrating in a physical-sexual sense."

"I would think so," Dr. Manoru said. "Our bodies are made to climb to those kinds of heights—to reach the highest peak and then release. Your body is not getting to do so."

"It's even frustrating to have the sudden ceasing of all emotion," Tatsuya said. He crossed one leg over the other as well. He could tell his body language said he was closed off, but internally, he keep pushing himself forward. "I'll feel the snap of my emotions stopping, and then I'll feel nothing. And then the nothingness itself irritates me."

Dr. Manoru nodded. "And your partner? How does she react in these moments?"

Tatsuya froze for a moment, but this woman was a professional. He decided to place stock in that. "He."

Dr. Manoru merely nodded again. "How does he react in these moments?"

"He's very understanding." Tatsuya realized his tone of voice was soft. Affectionate, even. _Well, I am here in part for Masaki. At least fifty percent of my drive to actually do therapy is to honor the relationship Masaki is offering me._ "He's never gotten angry at me, if that's what you're asking."

"That's good to hear," Dr. Manoru said. "If he lashed out at you, called you names, shamed you, or guilt-tripped you, then that would be abusive."

Tatsuya shook his head. "I can't imagine Masaki doing any of those things." Since 'Masaki' was a common name, Tatsuya just came out and named him. After all, Dr. Manoru had no way of guessing that he was speaking of Ichijou Masaki, scion of Clan Ichijou.

"That's good," Dr. Manoru said. "So these moments are treated with understanding by Masaki-san, and you do wish to share pleasure with your partner."

"Yes." Tatsuya had to glance away. "I admit that I am prepared to merely pleasure Masaki, as well as my future wife, without being able to feel pleasure in return."

Dr. Manoru tilted her head. "Do you think it will frustrate Masaki or your future wife if they cannot manage to give you pleasure in return? Do you think it will make them feel guilty to reap the rewards of your hard work without being able to give you pleasure?"

Another sigh escaped Tatsuya. The questions fell on him squarely. "Yes. No doubt it will both frustrate them and make them feel guilty. Masaki has already been trying to help me feel more pleasure. And it's not like I feel nothing when he touches me. Like I said, it merely shuts off partway through."

"Is that because you're afraid?" Dr. Manoru asked.

Tatsuya stared at her.

"You could be emotionally pulling away from Masaki-san about of fear," Dr. Manoru said. "The question is fear of what? Fear of having to express emotion? Fear of having to let your guard down? Fear that your body will be hurt? Fear of being vulnerable? If you are afraid, then being able to figure out what the fear is—and why you have it—will be an important step on the journey of being able to release yourself into those pleasurable sensations and emotions until you are able to achieve an orgasm."

Tatsuya shifted in his chair. Then shifted again. He crossed his legs the opposite way. Only then did he admit to himself that Dr. Manoru was onto something. He could feel the truth in her words, and what was more, he felt a surge of fear along with it. "My limbic system is functional enough for me to feel this fear you speak of." It almost sounded like a complaint. "I was secretly, faintly glad when I could say I basically felt nothing and never would. I imagined myself as mutilated for the sake of others' goals, and yet I had a sense of unspoken pride that I could be so stoic. Stoicism is just so prized from men here in Japan."

Dr. Manoru nodded. "Quite so."

"But under it all, I was able to track mild reactions to things." Tatsuya's gaze landed on Dr. Manoru's tablet, which held the PET and MRI scans. Tatsuya had signed a permission form to allow the results and Dr. Souma's notes to be shared, after all. "And here I find out I'm more functional than I thought. But now, as I am getting ready to graduate from high school, I find I need those emotions after all so I can have romantic relationships."

"Then it's this 'mutilation' that you mentioned that we need to speak about," Dr. Manoru said.

Tatsuya nearly cringed. He knew then that doing therapy would be the hardest—but potentially the most rewarding—thing he'd ever done. "Other people decided who they wanted me to be, both before I was born and again when I was six. That's how I ended up with those brain lesions; they came from a surgery when I was six."

"So it's never been safe to be you?" Dr. Manoru asked.

Tatsuya looked away. _No. Not really. Only Miyuki has seen me and accepted me, and even that is relatively new._

Dr. Manoru nodded once. "One of the things we'll work on is helping you come to accept yourself and feel safe being yourself."

"I do accept myself," Tatsuya said, only to immediately wonder if that were true. He'd fought hard when he was younger to accept himself as he was, and he'd thought he'd won that fight. But what if there was a piece left unclaimed?

Dr. Manoru didn't argue with his statement. "And Masaki-san? Does he accept you?"

"He accepts I'm a B.S. magician," Tatsuya murmured. "He's shown me no bigotry over it. He accepts and respects my skills." In saying that, he saw right away where part of his fear lay: What about the rest of him, the non-magical parts?

Dr. Manoru smiled. "And your heart? Does he accept that?"

Tatsuya groaned. _This is going to be a long road. But she's not wrong: I want Masaki to accept my heart. I think Miyuki already has, but I want them both. And my goal will never change: I wish to avoid a life in which I have no one and no one wants me_.

* * *

Only three days passed between Tatsuya's therapy appointment and a new lead on Petrov and the Soviets. The Ichijou Clan's intel network caught the lead at five in the morning, and Tatsuya's contacts picked up activity only thirty minutes later.

Tatsuya met Masaki in Toyama again—Petrov and his men had been sighted there once more—and they converged upon the same hotel.

For an hour, they sat at the table in their hotel room and poured over intel from the Ichijou Clan's network, and Tatsuya verified it against his two contacts. Kichijouji also called in roughly every twenty minutes, providing further information and strategic suggestions.

"We're swimming in information," Tatsuya noted, "but we don't have visual confirmation. Still, it seems likely they'll use a warehouse in the same general area that they used before. I think Petrov is too smart to use the same exact location twice if he can help it."

"I agree." Masaki flicked his finger over his phone screen, scanning maps Kichijouji had sent him. "I vote for Warehouse 14."

Tatsuya nodded. "With rush hour traffic still underway, my guess is they won't make a move yet. The slow traffic is to their detriment."

Masaki set down his phone and gazed across the table at Tatsuya. "I'm sure you're right about that. But if Petrov so much as sticks his nose out a window, we'll know it."

"I have genuine respect for your clan's intel network," Tatsuya said.

Masaki grinned at him. "Thanks."

Silence settled on the room. It was a nice room in a posh hotel, decorated in creams and golds and offset with deep crimson for an accent. There were two beds—Tatsuya knew as soon as he saw them one of them would not get used—a couch, and a massive flat screen TV/computer. Traditional ink paintings decorated the walls.

"We're just making up excuses to meet," Masaki said bluntly, breaking the silence.

Tatsuya laughed. "Yes. We are." He squared his shoulders. "Not that I don't intend to take Petrov down."

"Oh, we're definitely taking him down." Masaki's brow furrowed. "He's here illegally, and he stole Jouji's machine." He paused a beat and grinned again. "But we're really here to see each other."

Charmed by Masaki's openness and honesty, Tatsuya had to smile. "Yes." He stood and walked around the table. "Is it wrong that I immediately think of physical things?"

Masaki stood, and they slipped their arms around each other. "Well, according to adults, we're going to think about sex no matter what just because we're teens." He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Tatsuya's face. "But I insist there is more to you than hormones, and I know there is more to me than that." He reached up and caressed Tatsuya's cheek.

With a contented sigh, Tatsuya closed his eyes and focused on the sensation. Masaki's hand was surprisingly soft, not calloused, and his touch was tender. _Here it is again: that sensitive side of you that you hide when you fight. You can explode human beings into mush without blinking, and you can take your lover to a hotel and kiss him and forgive him when he can't orgasm. Who are you really, Ichijou Masaki?_

A burning wave of protectiveness washed through Tatsuya as he considered who Masaki was deep down inside. It was a different flavor of protectiveness than he felt for Miyuki, but it was protectiveness, nonetheless.

Tatsuya opened his eyes and met Masaki's soft gaze. Masaki was still caressing his cheek with his thumb. "Masaki . . . are you always this gentle when you make love to someone?"

A crimson blush stole over Masaki's face, and his eyes widened. "Well, I-I . . . Yes. I mean, why wouldn't you be nice about it? I mean—I mean, I know sometimes it gets really passionate, but no matter how passionate you get, you don't hurt your lover!"

Tatsuya decided right then and there that Masaki's bashful side, as well as the part of him that could get easily taken off guard, were both adorable. He'd never thought he'd find anything about a fellow man adorable. He reached up and caressed Masaki's hot, flushed cheek. "Good. I'm glad you feel that way. To me, it suggests you're an honorable man in bed." He thought about what his therapist had said. "Certainly, there should be no abuse."

Masaki continued to blush, but a small smile bent up his lips and he didn't stutter. "Certainly not."

 _The last thing I need is more abuse,_ Tatsuya admitted to himself. He leaned in and kissed Masaki's lips, mouthing them tenderly.

Masaki pressed into the kiss as well as their embrace, hugging Tatsuya's waist tightly. A small sigh of contentment escaped him, as though merely being in Tatsuya's arms or kissing Tatsuya could make him happy.

The idea that he could provide both protection and contentment to someone other than Miyuki caused Tatsuya to stir with arousal. _There can be two of you. All my hopes are not contained in just one person._ Tatsuya slipped his tongue past Masaki's lips and caressed his tongue. At the same time, he slipped one hand behind Masaki's neck, cupping him there. _Yes. Let me in, Masaki. Let me in again and again._

A long, low moan escaped Masaki at the deepened kiss. He met Tatsuya's tongue, caressing in return. With one hand, he stroked up Tatsuya's back, and he pressed their bodies flush.

As a result, Tatsuya could feel that Masaki was stirring as well. _Let me not waste time. We could be interrupted by an intel update, and I wouldn't like that._ He opened one eye long enough to locate the couch on the far side of the room, and then he began backing Masaki toward it. Masaki slowly walked with him, not even bothering to look.

 _You trust me with your body,_ Tatsuya thought, feeling that inner squirming sensation again. _You trust me to guide you blindly across a room._ He stopped them by the sofa. _How far are you willing to extend the trust? If you extend it, I swear I won't fail you._

Tatsuya turned them and sat on the couch, pulling Masaki across his lap in the process.

At this position, Masaki broke the kiss and met Tatsuya's gaze. "I don't want this to end up one-sided," he said, just as he had the previous weekend. "It would be unfair to you. I know you can get pleasure from giving pleasure, but if I'm the only one getting any relief . . ." He trailed off, his brow furrowed.

 _And so my therapist is right,_ Tatsuya thought, swallowing a sigh. _It will frustrate both Masaki and Miyuki if they feel like they're giving nothing back._ "I will let you try again." He glanced away. "It would seem I am a difficult subject." This time, he recognized the presence of the fear: fear of opening up, fear of showing himself, fear of being vulnerable. It made him meet Masaki's gaze again. "You're quite brave. You explore these things fearlessly."

Masaki reached up and caressed Tatsuya's cheek again. "Does it make you nervous to try these things?" He rushed to add, "I'm not going to laugh at you if it does. If I seem brave, it's only because I became boyfriends with Jouji first."

The offer of shared vulnerability shot through Tatsuya, and he reached up, wrapping his hand around Masaki's hand. _You really do have a good heart. I must protect you._ "I feel very little fear," he said gently. "But you're right that you're ahead of me in experience. I suppose that does . . . make it more difficult." He realized he was being less open and honest than Masaki, but the sense of vulnerability and impending danger swirled around in his chest, keeping any further words at bay.

"You can always say no," Masaki said, squeezing Tatsuya's hand. "We won't do anything you don't enjoy. Or that I don't enjoy."

Tatsuya pulled Masaki's hand to his lips and kissed the back of his fingers. "All right. I understand." He paused. "I would not wish to violate your privacy, or Kichijouji's, but if you are ever willing to clue me in on your level of experience, I would be glad to know." It was as delicate as he could figure out how to ask the question. _If I ever could figure out how to relax and drink in your touch, then how much experience do you have in the touching?_

"All the way," Masaki said bluntly without pause. "Jouji won't care that I told you. He assumes that my experience with him is helping with my experience with you."

Tatsuya gripped Masaki's hand more tightly and brought it to his chest. He hadn't expected to have any particular reaction to this news, especially since he had suspected the answer was going to be "all the way." But somehow hearing his suspicions confirmed hit him squarely in the chest. He couldn't identify the exact emotion, though, whatever it was. "I see." He tried to pull himself together, tried to figure out what he was thinking. But he was faintly scrambled. He picked a logical train of thought and followed it. "Then you're quite sure what you like and don't like. You're quite sure what you will and won't do."

"Quite," Masaki said. "I mean, I'm not beyond further experimentation with new things. But barring that, I know exactly what I like and what I'll do."

Tatsuya accepted that answer and clung to it, given he wasn't sure exactly what all he was reacting to. "Then I can count on you to speak up."

Masaki nodded.

Tatsuya did find that comforting—he wouldn't accidentally do something horribly wrong or painful if Masaki would speak up right away—but he knew his reaction was far more complex than that. _What am I playing with here?_ Because he didn't know, Tatsuya didn't stop to analyze it. He could do an analysis later. He reached out with his free hand and pulled Masaki into another kiss.

Without hesitation, Masaki met the kiss and slipped his tongue into Tatsuya's mouth. He wrapped his free arm around Tatsuya's shoulders.

Tatsuya caressed Masaki's tongue, easing himself back into familiar territory. _Kissing you is simple. Easy. Pleasurable._ Tatsuya cupped the back of Masaki's neck again, trading caresses until Masaki's beautiful moans emerged. And those lovely sounds of pleasure mattered to him.

Masaki cupped the back of Tatsuya's neck as well, massaging.

A shiver of pleasure ran down Tatsuya's spine. _What? I'm sensitive there? It's not just my ears?_

"Is that good?" Masaki asked, breaking their kiss. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of Tatsuya's neck. "I could kiss the back of your neck instead." He licked up the slope of Tatsuya's throat.

Tatsuya hadn't meant for Masaki to attempt pleasuring him first. His goal had been to pleasure Masaki. But Masaki had made use of their position to reach his neck more easily, and Tatsuya had to chuckle at himself for not seeing that coming.

The flash of mirth faded as Tatsuya considered letting Masaki try kissing the back of his neck. "I suppose it's worth a shot." He gave Masaki a wry smile. "I can't promise you'll get any results, of course."

"I require no promise," Masaki said. He nuzzled Tatsuya's neck and then pressed a kiss to his pulse point. "All I require is a different position on the couch so I can reach the back of your neck."

Tatsuya laughed. "Right." His skin tingled where Masaki had kissed him.

They shifted. Masaki sat on the couch with his back against the arm, a pillow propping him up. He parted his thighs so Tatsuya could sit between his legs. Tatsuya settled there, and Masaki ran his arms around Tatsuya's waist from behind.

"Try not to over-think it," Masaki reminded him. "Try to just relax."

Tatsuya willed himself to relax. As usual, Masaki's arms were warm and strong, and it felt good. Tatsuya also understood that Masaki's only goal was to take care of him, and that helped, too. Tatsuya reminded himself that having someone to protect him in return was an appealing, if strange, idea.

Masaki nuzzled the back of his neck and then pressed a soft kiss there, right over Tatsuya's vertebrae.

Wild tingles raced down Tatsuya's spine and out into his body. He felt himself stir. _It's definitely not just my ears that are sensitive._

Masaki slowly licked up the back of Tatsuya's neck and gave him a gentle squeeze within his embrace. Then he sucked on the nape of Tatsuya's neck.

That now-familiar strike of arousal fired through Tatsuya. A shiver whisked through him, and he gasped faintly.

In response, Masaki hugged him closer, his arms still warm and strong. He lapped up the back of Tatsuya's neck once more and then resumed sucking.

Tatsuya moaned. The sound just popped out of him, startling him. It wasn't that he hadn't moaned around Masaki before; he remembered that he had. But he was hyperaware of letting Masaki see a deep piece of him, a vulnerable piece, and the moaning was part of that. Still, he managed to stay in the moment, to stay connected to his body.

At Tatsuya's moan, Masaki moaned as well. He seemed to pour himself into the actions, lapping and licking and sucking.

A shudder of pleasure ran down Tatsuya's arms and legs and then found its way to his groin. He gasped again. Somehow, sitting up was making this easier on him than lying down, and Masaki was hugging him tightly in a reassuring way. The warm tongue tracing up his neck felt so good, making him stir harder. _I'm reacting again. Can I get further? Can I extend more trust? My body has actually been through a lot._

Masaki was growing hard against Tatsuya, which proved his engagement. And then his lapping and sucking expanded. Masaki licked up to the back of Tatsuya's ear and lapped up the outer rim.

A second strike of arousal fired through Tatsuya, and his lower back arched faintly. Only Masaki's arms around him kept him in place. "Masaki!" He hadn't really meant to call out the name, but like the moan, it popped out. He consoled himself with the fact Masaki had called out his name the weekend before.

Moaning softly right into Tatsuya's ear, Masaki dipped his tongue down into the shell and lapped gently.

The warm, wet heat of Masaki's tongue awakened in Tatsuya the same second, powerful entity inside his body. Or was it just his body itself? Tatsuya wasn't sure, and he didn't have time to figure it out. He moaned again, louder this time, and clutched Masaki's knees with his hands. _It's working. Oh, god, it's working. Don't let me over-think it!_

Masaki lapped up the rim of his ear again and then delved into the shell, licking. He moaned faintly, repeating the gesture and swirling his tongue as he did.

Hearing Masaki moan made it easier for Tatsuya to moan. He gasped sharply, and then Masaki was sucking on his earlobe. Another, deeper moan was jerked from Tatsuya. "Masaki!" He realized his nipples were hard, and for a moment he felt the fear. Then he realized that Masaki must have heard these same kinds of moans and cries from Kichijouji, just as Tatsuya had heard these sounds from Masaki. It wasn't different or weird or warped.

"Yes," Masaki moaned into his ear, and he repeated the entire process, lapping up Tatsuya's spine, over to his ear, up the rim, and then down into the shell.

Tatsuya felt a spot of wetness in his underwear, and he cried out, and he felt like an ordinary young man rather than a hyper-vigilant B.S. magician. No matter how fleeting the sensation was, Tatsuya welcomed it. "Masaki . . ."

Switching to the opposite ear, Masaki began again, licking up the rim and lapping inside the shell. Tatsuya moaned and shifted, a fresh wave of arousal washing through him. He could feel his body climbing upward, and he didn't fight it. But at the same time, he knew he'd never be able to crest. He just wasn't ready yet.

"Masaki, stop," Tatsuya gasped. It didn't sound very convincing. "Truly, please. I'm not ready to—to—" He found the words "to come" hard to say for some reason, even though he had been able to be frank with Masaki the previous weekend.

Masaki did as asked. He hugged Tatsuya back against him. "You seemed to get further this time." He pressed a kiss to Tatsuya's cheek instead.

"I did," Tatsuya murmured, realizing he hadn't emotionally disconnected. _I acknowledged I wasn't ready, and we stopped. Is that why I didn't disconnect this time?_ He supposed it was possible, although the disconnect had happened so quickly the previous times he couldn't be sure.

"That's good," Masaki whispered. He pressed another kiss to Tatsuya's cheek, still holding him.

Tatsuya could tell Masaki was used to snuggling someone, and he had to admit it felt good. But he could also feel Masaki's erection trapped between them. He reached up and ran one hand down Masaki's arm. "Let me touch you again, please."

"It doesn't bother you?" Masaki asked. "That I might come when you couldn't?"

"Just the opposite." Tatsuya shifted enough that he could peer over his shoulder at Masaki. "I am pleased that one of us can get some relief."

Masaki's brow furrowed. "I wouldn't want you to grow to resent me because I can get relief when you can't."

"I won't." Tatsuya shook his head. "Resentment would be hard for me in the first place, and I promise I would speak up long before then." He figured it was the least he could promise.

Masaki's brow smoothed out. "All right, then."

 _So courteous. You have such pretty manners._ Tatsuya stood from the couch and took Masaki's hands, pulling him to his feet. _And they're not empty manners, either._ He was still moved by Masaki's care for him.

Masaki accepted the help up. "What is it that you have in mind?"

"Anything that will bring you pleasure." Tatsuya pulled Masaki into his arms. "Your neck and ears are clearly sensitive. And you like being nibbled on."

A flush was slowly growing in Masaki's cheeks. "Well, yes."

Tatsuya wrapped his arms around Masaki's waist, hugging him tightly, and swooped forward to kiss his neck. He lapped up Masaki's throat and then sucked on the spot under the cute little mole.

Masaki tilted his head back, providing more access, and moaned softly.

That small gesture struck Tatsuya as profoundly sexy. "Yes," he whispered, licking up Masaki's neck again. _Touching you is an honor._ The thought struck Tatsuya, and he wondered if Masaki felt the same way about him. He didn't ask, though. Instead he captured Masaki's earlobe and sucked on it.

Not only did Masaki moan again, but he also relaxed against Tatsuya's body.

That pushed Tatsuya into further action. He turned and walked them over the few steps to the bed and toppled them onto it. Once they were comfortable, he resumed licking and sucking on Masaki's neck.

Masaki's body felt hot underneath his, and he moaned with each lick, relaxed under Tatsuya.

That relaxation was the exact thing Tatsuya wanted to achieve for himself—first with Masaki and then with Miyuki. For now, he observed it in Masaki and felt a surprising sense of gladness that Masaki trusted him. He sucked on Masaki's earlobe and dipped his tongue into Masaki's ear, cherishing every moan it brought him.

Finally, Tatsuya lifted his head and gazed at Masaki's beautiful, flushed face. "I would like to do something new for you. Is there something new you would permit?" He thought of the way his nipples had gotten hard when Masaki was sucking on the back of his neck. "Do you like having your nipples touched?"

Masaki blushed a little redder. "Yes. You can do that."

"May I unbutton your shirt, then?" Tatsuya asked, running one hand over Masaki's clothed chest.

Masaki nodded, and Tatsuya immediately set to work, unbuttoning Masaki's shirt. Masaki's muscular chest came into view inch by inch, hairless and without any scars. Tatsuya couldn't say the same about his chest; he did have some scars. He hoped that if he allowed Masaki to see his body then Masaki wouldn't be put off by the scars.

For now, though, Tatsuya set the thought aside and focused on the task at hand. He spread open Masaki's shirt and caressed over the bare, warm skin. Certainly he hadn't gotten anywhere near this far along with Miyuki, and so he discovered that he liked the sensation of warm, soft skin under his hand. He ghosted his fingers over one of Masaki's nipples, making him gasp.

"Is it very sensitive?" Tatsuya asked. Only after he asked did he realize he was trying to talk to Masaki in a sexy way. He didn't exactly have any practice, but he plunged ahead. "If I lick it, will it be more sensitive still?"

Masaki's eyes widened faintly at the sexy talk, and his blush seeped down into his throat. "Yes," he whispered.

Tatsuya was pleased that his words had worked, and he dipped down, running the entire length of his tongue over the nipple.

Under him, Masaki cried out. He'd run his arms around Tatsuya's shoulders, and now he clung to his shoulder blades.

"You have a sensitive body, then," Tatsuya murmured, hoping to be sexier still. "Everywhere I lick is sensitive." He lapped over the nipple again.

Masaki cried out once more, shifting faintly under Tatsuya.

Tatsuya decided then and there that Masaki was an exquisite lover, and he wanted to pour himself into Masaki. And that would require giving himself back in return. The challenge was extreme, he realized. The only person he'd ever dedicated himself to in any way was Miyuki, and it had not been sexual in nature. But now he was determined to figure out how to open up more.

Decision made, Tatsuya switched nipples and gave into his instincts, licking and sucking. Masaki's back arched upward, pressing his body up into Tatsuya's, and he clung harder to Tatsuya's shoulders. Tatsuya found himself wondering once more what it might be like to make love to Masaki. If Masaki's entire body was this sensitive, Tatsuya assumed he would have to be quite gentle about it. Tatsuya assumed that if Kichijouji had made love to Masaki from the top, he would be quite gentle about it. Kichijouji adored Masaki too much to ever hurt him.

 _But I wouldn't hurt someone, either,_ Tatsuya told himself. _Not with something as powerful and meaningful as this is._ And with that in mind, he switched back to the other nipple, not wanting to make one oversensitive and sore. Tatsuya lapped slowly and gently, then circled the areola.

All of Masaki's moans had transformed into cries at this point, and Tatsuya doubted that Masaki could come down without assistance of some kind. He lifted his head and gazed up at Masaki, who looked truly stunning with so much pleasure washing over his face. "My offer to touch you still stands. I want you to have relief."

Masaki laughed suddenly. "I'm glad I brought a change of clothes with me. And a few pairs of underwear."

Tatsuya had to laugh as well. "You figured what we'd get up to, then?"

"We are pretty predictable." Masaki's face softened. "You can use your hand this time. Through my pants."

Tatsuya nodded, deeply complimented that Masaki had allowed him this opportunity. "However you wish it." He shifted to the side, needing to clear room for his hand but also wanting to still be able to reach Masaki's nipple. Then he reached down, caressing over the hot bump tenting the front of Masaki's pants. It was odd to feel another man's heat and hardness, but Tatsuya decided he liked it.

At the touch, Masaki immediately arched up against Tatsuya's hand and moaned.

"That must feel so good," Tatsuya murmured. It wasn't that he didn't know at all—he had touched himself before—but there was something about seeing another man in pleasure that made it different somehow. "Does this feel even better?" He leaned down and lapped over Masaki's nipple again.

Masaki cried out. He managed to get one arm around Tatsuya and hugged him to his side.

The intimacy of that was not lost on Tatsuya. It felt like a balm on some very old wounds, in fact. He decided he welcomed it, even if accepting it all would be an uphill battle. He licked over Masaki's nipple again and caressed the hardness under his hand, getting himself coordinated after a few moments.

Masaki's moans filled the room, deep and resonant. Tatsuya drank in the sound, continuing his dual pleasuring.

Apparently the dual pleasure was plenty enough. Masaki cried out one more time and then went silent, his hips jerking several times.

Tatsuya felt aroused by watching this—aroused and pleased. For a moment, he thought he might have to retreat and relieve his own pressure, but as Masaki relaxed into a look of bliss and continued to hug him with one arm, Tatsuya felt the urge pass.

Finally Masaki opened his eyes and smiled at Tatsuya. "Thank you," he murmured.

Tatsuya realized he'd been thanked the first time Masaki had come, too. "I'm not sure you need to thank me, but you're welcome."

"I consider it worth thanking someone over," Masaki said gently.

Tatsuya felt even more compelled to keep his relationship with Masaki, balancing it with Miyuki using ethical polyamory. He'd read up on the concept and all its issues, and he felt quite certain Kichijouji had done the same, which meant Masaki had been informed. But that was a conversation for another day.

"I will continue to work with myself," Tatsuya promised Masaki then. _I will do so because you are a rare prize, and it's worth fighting myself for._

Masaki reached up and caressed Tatsuya's cheek. "Don't push yourself too hard, too fast. Just go at whatever pace is comfortable."

 _No wonder Kichijouji loves you,_ Tatsuya thought, leaning into the caress. _But only time will tell if I can love you just as much. And what a wonder and a gift to me it would be if I do learn how—both for you and Miyuki._


	7. Elusive

**Chapter 7**

 **Elusive**

After Masaki got cleaned up and into a new change of clothing, he and Tatsuya shared a leisurely lunch together.

Then the intel network began hopping with updates again. Masaki's phone nearly drowned in messages.

Leaning in, Tatsuya read the screen from the side. "You were right. It's warehouse 14."

"Let's do this." Masaki hopped off the couch.

Within minutes they were downstairs and headed into the parking garage. Tatsuya offered to drive Masaki's motorcycle so Masaki could read all the continued updates.

Masaki tossed him the keys without argument.

To Tatsuya's relief, Masaki's motorcycle handled the nearly the same as his own, and he was able to make the trip at top speed since the bike felt natural. With rush hour traffic out of the way, they arrived at the warehouses in only seven minutes, although that did involve Tatsuya speeding through two yellow lights.

Tatsuya stopped the motorcycle a few buildings away, not wanting to be overheard. Masaki and he jumped off and tried to stay in the shadows while they ran the rest of the distance.

Stopping by warehouse 13, they paused and assessed the situation. Just as the Ichijou intel had reported, two dozen men surrounded warehouse 14, all of them wearing security uniforms. Most of the men were white, which was enough of a giveaway as it was, but Tatsuya could hear a few Russian words as the men muttered to each other.

Quiet footsteps drew Tatsuya's attention as well as Masaki's. Someone was approaching from the shadows of warehouse 13. They both drew their gun CADs.

Kichijouji Shinkurou stepped up to them, one hand held up in a "halt" motion. He was carrying a rifle CAD in his other hand, the barrel leaning back against his shoulder. He wore solid black.

"Jouji?" Masaki hissed.

Kichijouji grinned. "Beat you here," he whispered.

Tatsuya glanced at Masaki and saw the warring emotions on his face. Part of Masaki wanted Kichijouji to fight at his side. The other part wanted Kichijouji safely far away.

Kichijouji shifted his rifle, gripping it with both hands and pointing the barrel at the ground. The safety posture wasn't necessary for a CAD, but most people were trained to handle a CAD and a mechanical rifle the same way.

"How long have you been staking them out?" Masaki whispered.

"Two hours," Kichijouji whispered in reply. "Petrov is definitely inside. Plus those dozen crates I assume you read about on the intel feed."

Masaki nodded.

Tatsuya peeked around the building again, scanning with his magic and verifying earlier intel: another three dozen men were inside.

"Let's take out the men outside," Kichijouji whispered. "Then give me cover, and I'll use Invisible Bullet on the ones inside."

Masaki nodded again. "You got it."

Tatsuya reminded himself that Kichijouji had taken first place in speed shooting during their rookie year at the Nine Schools Competition. There was no arguing that Kichijouji could wipe out a large majority of their enemies in a short amount of time. "Sounds good. Let's do it. And this time, we better shoot to kill."

Tatsuya dashed for the semi parked near warehouse 14. Using it as cover, he opened fire on the men outside.

Masaki walked out into plain view, casting his Interference Armor and then using Rupture to explode the men firing his way.

Using warehouse 13 as cover, Kichijouji opened fire as well, hailing the men with "bullets" they couldn't see or hear.

Two dozen dead bodies soon littered the asphalt.

Inside the warehouse came a ruckus of yelling, followed by various banging noises, some of them metal against metal.

Masaki calmly continued walking, heading right for the front doors.

Tatsuya ran down the length of the semi, standing behind the cab and peering into the warehouse. Half the men inside were stacking the crates on top of a large, rolling cart. The other half were running for the doorway, various guns and CADs in hand.

Kichijouji held back, apparently waiting for a signal.

Masaki punched a code into his wrist CAD and held out his left hand. Screaming erupted from inside, and Masaki's Interference Armor flashed repeatedly as he was fired upon. Masaki gestured to Kichijouji.

Kichijouji dashed across the distance and stopped behind Masaki, letting the armor cover him as well. As Masaki opened fire with Rupture, Kichijouji knelt down and fired off dozens of Invisible Bullets.

Deciding Masaki and Kichijouji had the three dozen men taken care of, Tatsuya ran down the length of the warehouse and climbed in through a back window. Petrov had positioned himself behind the stack of crates and was yelling out orders in Russian to the few men who were left.

Tatsuya trained both his guns on Petrov as he whirled to face him. He preferred to take Petrov alive so he could be questioned.

"Ah. The high school boys return." Petrov grinned at him and hit a button on his wrist CAD. Then he held his hand behind his back.

Petrov vanished.

Tatsuya had already fired at Petrov, but his spell hit nothing except a crate.

Suddenly, silence fell upon the warehouse. Tatsuya peeked around the crates and found nothing but dead bodies. Masaki and Kichijouji were walking toward him.

"Petrov escaped," Tatsuya said, unable to help feeling frustration. "It was almost like he teleported. Or used near teleportation." _And he knew to hide his spell from me so I couldn't read it._

Masaki's brow furrowed. "Teleportation? Really?"

Tatsuya didn't like it, either.

Kichijouji opened a crate and looked inside. "These appear to be junk parts."

Tatsuya walked over and scanned the contents. Sure enough, it was a random collection of gears, nuts, bolts, and rods.

"There's a lot of money in the salvage business," Kichijouji said, "but we already know that's not Petrov's game."

Tatsuya nodded. "These are meant to build something. Perhaps something similar to your machine but with a no doubt more sinister alternative function. It might clean air, but it likely has a second purpose."

"Even a simultaneous second purpose," Kichijouji said.

"Quite possibly," Tatsuya said. "We should open all the crates and see if we can find any clues."

"Good idea." Masaki stowed his CAD and joined them.

For the next hour, all they did was unload and open crates, examining the contents. Nothing seemed particularly sinister. One crate simply contained tools like electric drills, electric screwdrivers, and wrenches.

The three young men lined up on the empty cart, sitting and resting.

"It's too innocuous," Kichijouji said.

"I agree," Tatsuya said. "I'm more suspicious, not less."

Masaki checked his phone. "Dad's sent people to deal with the scene—not only the dead men but also these crates. We have some specialists who will take over the analysis of the junk parts."

"All right," Tatsuya said. "I'll run a mockup of possible machines in one of my programs using what I've seen here." He stood, pulled out his phone and took pictures, cataloging the number and types of parts.

"I'll compare what's here to the specs of the machine we made," Kichijouji said.

"Please text me with the result," Tatsuya said.

Kichijouji nodded. He looked as frustrated as Tatsuya had felt.

Masaki ran his arm around Kichijouji's shoulders and hugged him. Then he kissed Kichijouji's temple, the height difference between them making such an act easy.

Kichijouji visibly relaxed, his frown easing.

Tatsuya was struck by the innocent moment. _Wordless reassurance from a simple touch. Could I have that kind of effect on Masaki or Miyuki?_

Tatsuya watched the way Kichijouji settled against Masaki's side, clearly feeling bolstered by Masaki's presence, and hoped he could offer that sense of comfort to his lovers.

But more still, Tatsuya wondered if he could ever feel that safe in another's arms.

The only way to find out was to keep moving forward.

* * *

During the following week, Tatsuya, Masaki, and Kichijouji all fired off messages to each other, offering mockups, analyses, and intelligence reports. Tatsuya felt like a hunting dog that kept seeing a rabbit's tail disappearing into bushes over and over without ever catching sight of the full rabbit.

But Tatsuya was not one to give up, so he kept tinkering with possible designs that would fit the parts they'd found. Unfortunately, he also knew those crates could have been merely one part of a series of shipments.

Then the following weekend, Tatsuya took a break and spent almost every moment with Miyuki, taking her out on a date both days and then bringing her home to kiss her. And kiss her. And kiss her some more. He found it was getting easier to kiss her now, and not only that, but he could also kiss her neck. Her ears proved too ticklish. But Tatsuya was making progress with his ability to engage sexually with Miyuki, and she was definitely pleased.

Buoyed by this success with Miyuki, Tatsuya decided to take Masaki on a date the next weekend. Masaki accepted the invitation, and they talked out how they would arrange payment: by alternating who paid for the date every other date.

Early Saturday evening, Tatsuya met Masaki in Toyama, the city having become a type of romantic refuge for them. Tatsuya had made a reservation at a five-star Italian restaurant, and Masaki picked Tatsuya up at the train station, as usual.

Masaki was leaning against his motorcycle as Tatsuya exited the station. Instead of wearing leather, Masaki wore a navy suit with a white shirt and a silver- and blue-striped tie. Tatsuya noticed right away that Masaki looked good in blue.

Tatsuya had worn a suit as well, his a simple black one matched to a crimson- and grey-striped tie. He'd brought along a change of clothing in his duffle bag, along with his CAD case. One could never be too careful, especially with Petrov still at large.

Masaki smiled as Tatsuya neared. "Handsome," he murmured.

Tatsuya smiled in return. "Yes, you are," he said, turning the compliment back to Masaki. Tatsuya had known his whole life that he wasn't particularly remarkable-looking. To have both Miyuki and Masaki find him attractive—among others, as it had turned out—was confusing but pleasant.

Masaki chuckled at Tatsuya's tactic and gave his upper arm a quick squeeze of affection. Then he opened the left saddlebag compartment and helped Tatsuya get his items stowed.

They headed off to the restaurant, their helmets at odds with their suits.

When they arrived, the hostess seated them by a window, which gave them a view of the small garden out front. Masaki opted to sit beside Tatsuya rather than across from him, and under the table, they held hands.

Once their server had come and gone, taking their orders, Tatsuya relaxed and gave Masaki a smile. "It's nice to meet without having to deal with Petrov. Or the pretense of dealing with Petrov."

Masaki laughed and squeezed Tatsuya's hand. "I'm sure we could come up with unlimited excuses if we had to. But it's nice to not have to."

Tatsuya caressed the top of Masaki's hand with his thumb. The more he adjusted to sexual expression, both with Masaki and Miyuki, the more curious about sex he became. Seeing Masaki's smiling face, holding his hand, and being together brought Tatsuya's curiosity to the forefront. "I realize we're in a public place," he murmured. "But I'm curious, so I'm going to ask this question anyway. Is sex between men difficult?"

Masaki blushed and scanned their surroundings. The tables weren't crowded together, and between the music and the patrons' talking, there was plenty of background noise. Apparently this was enough to reassure Masaki. "No. Not difficult. But it takes preparation. And lubrication. That part of the body doesn't make its own lubrication, obviously, so you have to apply enough to make sure things are smooth. And you can't just shove it in, either. Those are muscles down there. They have to be stretched out and relaxed."

"I see." Tatsuya considered the information and realized it was logical. "Does it hurt the first time for the man on bottom?"

"Not if you do it right," Masaki groused. "If you're asking because you've been online reading YAOI manga or the like, take it with a grain of salt. More like an entire shaker of salt. They rarely show the preparation stage, and even if they do, they often immediately depart from reality. Not to mention the unbending trope of the seme/uke and the often abusive relationship between the two men, in which the uke is mistreated, condescended to, or outright raped."

Tatsuya easily detected Masaki's ire. "It pisses you off."

Masaki sighed. "Why pass off abusive relationships as normal? I even read one in which the seme blackmailed the uke into sex, resulting in a manga in which every sex scene was actually a rape. And then the mangaka had the audacity to end the series with the two boys in love—as if you could blackmail and rape someone into loving you."

Admittedly, Tatsuya couldn't imagine any such real life scenario, nor did he want to. "The only thing that might create is Stockholm Syndrome. But certainly not real love." He paused and considered the issue. "Even if rape is the mangaka's erotic fantasy, such a story sends a dangerous message to its readers."

"If someone has a rape fantasy, there are safe ways to set up the roleplay and carry it out," Masaki said. "Again: preparation, preparation, preparation. Communication is the key to any relationship—the sexual part and otherwise."

Tatsuya was glad he'd gotten Masaki onto this topic. He'd just learned an important piece of information. "So you and Kichijouji talk extensively in advance about your fantasies, how to set them up, and how to safely carry them out? And you consider this indispensable to a successful relationship?"

Masaki blushed again, and he cleared his throat before speaking. "Yes. That's right. I would do anything he asked of me, as long as it wasn't damaging or degrading. But you can't just do these things spontaneously. You need to understand what the fantasy is, what the other person wants, and what safety concerns there are."

This addition information was making a knot deep inside Tatsuya's core relax by fractions. He hadn't even been aware the knot was there, and he wasn't sure what it was, precisely. "What would be a safety concern?"

Masaki glanced around again and then kept his voice low. "For example, if your partner wants to be tied up. If you tie them up too tightly, you'll cut off part—or worse, all—of their circulation. You can cause permanent damage. And nerve damage to the hands would create significant life-long impairment."

"That makes sense." An entire unknown world opened up to Tatsuya. He felt the urge to research descend upon him, and he knew that he'd be deep into the internet later, trying to find legitimate sites that discussed safe ways to carry out fetishes.

He almost asked Masaki on the spot if he liked to be tied up. But Tatsuya held it in—not really because they were in a public place, but rather because he didn't want to embarrass Masaki in a public place.

Their food arrived—steaming plates of noodles covered in cream sauce. Masaki released Tatsuya's hand so they could eat, and the conversation turned to more benign topics, such as motorcycles and baseball.

Tatsuya found, though, that he was looking forward to the next part of the date.

* * *

Once Tatsuya and Masaki were back in what they now called "our hotel" in Toyama, they shucked off their coats and ties along with their shoes and socks. Feeling much more comfortable, they turned to each other without a word and embraced. For a moment, it was just a hug, a sharing of affection. And then they pulled back enough to be able to kiss.

The kiss, too, began as a simple act of affection. They gently mouthed each other's lips, and then they kissed more deeply, caressing tongues. Masaki moaned softly, and Tatsuya allowed himself to sink into the kiss, moaning along with him.

They moved over to the bed and climbed on, lying down facing each other.

Masaki caressed Tatsuya's cheek. "You seem more relaxed today."

Tatsuya wasn't about to say it was because he'd taken Miyuki on two dates and had more success making out with her than ever before. "I do feel less tense about it this weekend. These changes in my life are slowly sinking in."

Masaki reached down and caressed Tatsuya's chest through his clothing. "I'm glad to be a part of these changes."

"You will remain so, if you choose to," Tatsuya said. He decided the caresses felt good.

"I choose to," Masaki said. He reached up and fiddled with the button to Tatsuya's shirt. "May I?"

Tatsuya offered him a small smile. "You may."

Masaki began unbuttoning Tatsuya's shirt, slowly exposing his chest.

Only then did Tatsuya remember his concern that Masaki would not like someone with scars on his body.

Masaki didn't react at all, though. He just ran his hand over Tatsuya's bare skin, tracing over the lines of his muscles. "There is a certain joy to caressing a man's chest," he murmured.

Tatsuya relaxed under the caress and the words. "Well, touching you there two weekends ago certainly was appealing."

"Thank you." Masaki grinned at Tatsuya and moved his fingers to one nipple.

Tatsuya had expected the move, but even so, he did not expect the burn of pleasure that came with it. He gasped faintly. _Maybe I underestimate myself. Maybe my body is just as sensitive as Masaki's is. If so, then I need him to be just as careful with me as I am with him._

"Good?" Masaki asked.

Tatsuya nodded, and when he did, Masaki gently pushed Tatsuya onto his back and opened his shirt farther. He caressed all of Tatsuya's bare chest, then leaned in and began pressing kisses to the expanse of skin.

Tatsuya allowed himself a sigh of pleasure. He hadn't expected Masaki to want to touch his chest, especially first off, and he found it was making him stir.

Then Masaki reached his left nipple and lapped over it. Tatsuya gasped again, more sharply this time, tingles erupting throughout his torso. Masaki reacted by licking again, then sucking. This drew a moan from Tatsuya. _How can I be so lucky? I didn't think I'd have even one erogenous zone. But it turns out I have three._

Masaki circled his tongue over the areola then gave Tatsuya's nipple a long lick. Tatsuya could feel himself growing hard. _Even still, it is easier to get aroused with Masaki than Miyuki,_ he lamented. Part of his brain was still stuck in brother mode.

Masaki sucked on Tatsuya's nipple again, and all his thoughts fled. He buried his fingers in Masaki's soft, thick hair, cupping his head and gasping as those lightning strikes of arousal introduced themselves again. Masaki lapped and sucked and even nibbled. Tatsuya moaned at the nibble, and he felt like a cat as he arched up against Masaki's body.

With a soft moan, Masaki repeated the process, licking and nibbling. Tatsuya ran his hands down over Masaki's shoulders, wishing he was touching bare skin rather than Masaki's shirt. "Too many clothes," he whispered, suddenly impatient with the cloth barriers between them.

"We can fix that." Masaki sat up with a smile and began unbuttoning his shirt.

Tatsuya sat up as well and chased Masaki's hands away. "Allow me." He unbuttoned the shirt and slipped it off of Masaki's broad shoulders. Then he unbuckled Masaki's belt, catching Masaki's gaze as he did to make sure this next step was welcome.

Masaki gave him a small nod. Tatsuya wasted no time unbuttoning and unzipping Masaki's pants. Masaki wiggled out of them and let them fall off the side of the bed and onto the floor. Then Masaki slipped Tatsuya's shirt off as well and took off his pants, tossing the clothes onto the other bed.

For a moment, they gazed at each other in silence, their boxers now the only clothing left between them.

Tatsuya reached out and caressed over Masaki's bare chest. Masaki smiled and gently pushed Tatsuya back down on the mattress, settling over him again. He resumed his efforts, lapping over Tatsuya's right nipple this time and then nibbling on it.

With a gasp, Tatsuya settled back into the haze of pleasure he'd been in. He ran his hands over Masaki's bare shoulders, kneading them. Somehow, everything felt more natural this time. _Even fictional stories of lovers hurting each other angers you,_ Tatsuya thought, gazing at Masaki's expression of bliss as he sucked on his nipple. _Intellectually, I know my much-abused body is safe in your hands. But can my heart seize upon that truth?_

Masaki reached out with his hand and ran his fingers over Tatsuya's other nipple. Tatsuya moaned, caught off guard by the added pleasure. Masaki ran his free hand down Tatsuya's arm and clasped his hand, capturing it gently against the mattress. Tatsuya felt his body arching upward again, pressing against the lips and fingers that teased him. He was hard. Fully hard. Leaking.

Tatsuya felt the pressure in the background—the fear that could rise up and steal this moment. The act of self-defense that would snap his tenuous emotions in half. Frustration caused him to beat back the fear. _No. No!_ _I don't want to lose it this time. I'm ready._ "Touch me," he gasped, for once jumping in without a thorough analysis first. "Touch me. Before I lose it again."

Lifting his head, Masaki gazed at Tatsuya with wide eyes. Then he shifted to the side, clearing space, and released Tatsuya's hand. Masaki reached down and caressed over the hard lump bulging in Tatsuya's boxers.

Tatsuya hissed at the surge of pleasure. He knew he was capable of orgasm, having touched himself a few times over the years. He urged his body to allow it. _This part of me is not mutilated. And Masaki is safe. Safe enough. Stay with me, body. You have permission to experience what others do._

Masaki wrapped his fingers around Tatsuya as best he could with the material in the way and began to slowly stroke. "It's okay," he whispered. He leaned down and lapped over Tatsuya's nipple, giving back to Tatsuya what Tatsuya had given to Masaki before.

 _Is it?_ a voice deep within Tatsuya asked.

 _I want it,_ Tatsuya shot back. _I've been denied enough things already._

"It's okay," Masaki whispered again, as though sensing Tatsuya's inner battle. He continued the slow strokes.

The shifting of the material caused Tatsuya's erection to pop free through the opening slit in the boxers. Then, just as abruptly, Masaki's hand was on Tatsuya's bare skin.

Electricity seemed to dance through Tatsuya's body at the touch. He moaned at the increased pleasure.

"I've wanted to do this for you for months now," Masaki whispered. He stroked lightly but quickly, up toward the tip. " _Months_."

 _Months?_ Tatsuya's surprise and gratification at the words merged into his physical pleasure, and abruptly, he came, his back bowing sharply off the bed.

Masaki stroked him until nothing more emerged, and Tatsuya collapsed onto the mattress, stunned by the sudden orgasm. _Why did it happen then? Why like that? Can I get it to happen again? Will this be the only time my body cooperates? How did I relax enough to get past my own barriers?_

Masaki's lips quirked. "I can almost smell your brain burning as your thoughts whirl."

"Mn?" Tatsuya glanced at Masaki in surprise. _Is it that obvious?_

"Relax," Masaki murmured. "It worked. That's all that matters." He grinned, glowing with clear joy. "Finally, you got to find release! It's not one-sided."

Tatsuya smelled the doom again. _I was right in my earlier analysis. Neither Masaki nor Miyuki will be satisfied if I give all the time and never receive._ He sighed, realizing that he'd done something very typical: he'd thrown his own emotions and needs under a bus. _I assumed it was hopeless, and I was ready to sacrifice my own needs for the sake of theirs. But Masaki will never stand for that._ "I—ah, yes."

"And it'll work again," Masaki said, radiating confidence. "We'll experiment until we can reliably know what works."

"So sure," Tatsuya muttered.

"Yep!" Masaki climbed off the bed and retreated to the bathroom. Tatsuya could hear him washing his hands.

Masaki returned with a washcloth and cleaned Tatsuya up. His chest had ended up splattered, after all. The top of his boxers had also taken some damage, and Masaki dabbed that up as best he could.

Tatsuya allowed himself to relax and be taken care of. Little throbs were still shooting through his body in aftershocks. But what took up most of his attention were his thoughts. _I'm not sure that would work with Miyuki. For that matter, I'm still not sure what worked. It seems important that Masaki spoke to me in that moment. Was it the words, specifically? Or just the acknowledgement of my desirability in general? Or was the bare skin on bare skin? Well, that certainly helped. But it can't be just that. Too easy. Maybe knowing how angry Masaki gets over abusive relationships helped. Or perhaps—_

"Your brain is burning up," Masaki said, standing and carrying the washcloth back into the bathroom. "You're thinking so hard your entire forehead is furrowed."

Tatsuya swallowed a groan. _Okay, so it is that obvious._

Masaki returned to the bed again, perching beside Tatsuya and smiling. "Just enjoy the afterglow."

 _Too late for that._ Tatsuya sat up and sighed, realizing his analysis had popped him out of his emotions and into the vacuum that most assumed was practiced stoicism. He reached out and caressed down Masaki's shoulder and arm. "I thought so hard I disconnected from my feelings. And I think it's inherently wrong to touch you if I'm feeling nothing."

"That's fair," Masaki said. "And you got to come for once, so I hardly feel cheated. But we could just rest a bit and see if you find the lost thread."

Tatsuya reflected with some frustration that Masaki couldn't possibly be having these kinds of problems with Kichijouji. "Why are you so patient?"

"What good would impatience do?" Masaki asked. "You didn't ask to have that surgery done, much less to suffer the outcome. You're doing the best you can. And if I did feel impatient, well . . . I have two hands. I can use one on myself to release the pressure."

Tatsuya had to chuckle at that. He pulled Masaki into his arms and lay back, pulling Masaki on top of him as he did. They lay together, Tatsuya running one hand up and down Masaki's spine. "Certainly I must be a more difficult lover than Kichijouji."

Masaki snorted. "We had our own hang ups at first. I was still struggling to accept my bisexuality. Jouji was incredibly shy about all things sexual beyond kissing. But we got past it."

"He clearly loves you incredibly deeply," Tatsuya said. "I can imagine he was a bit overwhelmed at first, no doubt having assumed you were permanently off limits."

"Mn," Masaki agreed. "He's also like you: super cerebral. Sometimes he struggles to shut down his mind and stay in the present moment with his body."

The words hit Tatsuya squarely. _Struggling to shut down my mind. Staying in the moment with my body._ "That makes a great deal of sense."

Masaki tapped Tatsuya's forehead. "As I've said before, don't over-think it. Just feel the sensations as they happen. Accept them moment by moment."

"Says the man with two 'super cerebral' boyfriends," Tatsuya said, smiling. "I suppose you'd know. Not that you're not intelligent as well. I know you have all _A_ 's."

"I do," Masaki said. "But my life isn't consumed with magic research or magic engineering." He grinned at Tatsuya. "I'm outdoors training just as much as I'm indoors studying."

Tatsuya thought to focus on the man in his arms. "Do you like doing outdoorsy things, then? Hiking? Off-trail biking? Camping?"

"Yeah." Masaki sighed. "I don't get to do as much of it as I'd like, though."

Suddenly a whole new vista opened for Tatsuya: weekend trips with Masaki. "We should go sometime, then." He wondered why he'd never thought to ask such questions before. _But surely I know all these things about Miyuki. She loves to shop. Even window shop. And go to the beach. But maybe I should ask her if there is something else she's interested in._

Tatsuya felt himself take one more step down the path of boyfriend and husband.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_** _Thank you to everyone for being patient, and thanks for the faves and reviews!_


	8. True Intimacy

**Author's Note:** I am happy to report that I have rough drafts of chapters 9, 10, and 11 as well. Expect more soon!

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 **True Intimacy**

Two weekends later, during the lull of Petrov's apparent inactivity, Tatsuya made good on his idea for an outdoor date with Masaki; he arranged a hiking trip. They chose to hike up Mt. Hiei to the Enryakuji Temple, and since the mountain was just outside of Kyoto, they would spend the night at a hotel there before and after their trip, hoping making good use of the city's restaurants and other entertainment as well. Not to mention the hotel's privacy.

Since Masaki lived relatively close to Kyoto, he arrived at their hotel first. Tatsuya arrived about thirty minutes later.

When Tatsuya reached their room, he knocked on the door. Masaki answered after a minute, a pinched look on his face and his brow furrowed.

Tatsuya stepped into the room, set down his backpack, and toed off his shoes. "That doesn't look promising. Is something wrong?"

"Not exactly," Masaki said. He looked away with a frown. "Nothing important. Nothing that has to do with terrorists, national security, or anyone dying."

Tatsuya paused. He knew he wasn't good at empathy or emotionally reading others. He could much more easily detect business or military motives and extrapolate what created such motives. And even after almost three years of working on his social awkwardness during high school, he knew he was still behind. But he decided he had to try. "Whatever it is, it doesn't seem good." He did what he knew would work for Miyuki: he reached out and pulled Masaki into a hug.

Masaki seemed startled for a moment, but then he sank into Tatsuya's embrace, wrapping his arms around Tatsuya's waist. "Thanks. I needed that. I know better, but I couldn't help myself. Stories like that get to me." He released Tatsuya and took his hand, walking farther into the room. "I was reading an online manga. I know it's fake. I'm not an idiot. It's just . . ." He frowned again. "It's based on something real, in that it could really happen to someone, and it probably does happen all the time." He shrugged irritably. "I hate it. I hate when people write about it and call it romance."

Tatsuya thought back to their discussion two weeks earlier. "You found another story that shows abuse? A story where the seme abuses or rapes the uke?" He had asked Miyuki if she read such manga, hoping to get some titles from her, but Miyuki had quickly insisted she didn't read shonen ai or YAOI. Tatsuya had found an archive online, but half the links were dead. The one story he'd found so far had been innocent—just two boys kissing.

"It's sickening," Masaki said. "I don't know why anyone writes about it. Abuse is not sexy or romantic. It's—" He shook his head. "The only people who get gratification out of reading that are sick."

Tatsuya decided the manga in question was particularly bad this time. "Or I suppose the readers—and the mangaka—could be blind to the abuse because they are in abusive relationships themselves. Perhaps the cruelty seems normal to them. If so, I suppose you could feel bad that they're not in healthier relationships." He sat on the couch and pulled Masaki down beside him. He continued holding Masaki's hand. "You are the type of person who can engage in manga or movies and feel the characters are real. You're also naturally empathetic. For you, these stories are poison." He frowned. "Unless there is more. I was sure I was the first person you had kissed. Am I wrong? Have you been in a toxic relationship?"

Masaki flinched. "No. Not a relationship." He squeezed Tatsuya's hand tightly. "But I may as well tell you. I've told Jouji, so I guess it was only a matter of time before I told you, too. I was sexually assaulted in the locker room when I was eleven."

That was the last thing Tatsuya had expected to hear. His frown deepened.

"The boy had been stalking me for three weeks. I thought if I just told him off that he would leave me alone. But then he – " Masaki's brow furrowed, and his shoulders tensed. "I couldn't believe he did that. I finally told my parents what had been happening. They were upset that I didn't tell them sooner, and they convinced me to tell the principal. The boy got expelled." He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them. "That didn't change the fact that what was done was done. I wonder if anyone ever thought of that. I wasn't even referred to the guidance counselor."

Tatsuya released Masaki's hand so he could run his arm around his shoulders. Then he reached over took Masaki's hand with his free hand. "That is . . ." He trailed off, unable to come up with a good word. He couldn't imagine what Masaki must feel like. He tried switching lenses. _My family did things to my body I didn't want done. I felt fear before the surgery. And anger. After the surgery, I couldn't feel hardly anything. But they made me into something I didn't want to be. So . . ._ "That is a violation." He frowned as the words felt insufficient. "Inexcusable. Cruel." That felt closer. Then the obvious hit him: "And I'm sorry it happened to you."

Masaki let out a small, sharp laugh. He gave Tatsuya a wobbly smile. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like I was mocking your attempt to comfort me. Just the opposite. I laughed because it's ironic that someone who says he can't feel much does a better job than my dad at expressing empathy. He – " He stopped and took a deep breath. "I guess that's one of the things I read into these stories: that if the person who was victimized goes to someone they trust to try to talk about it, they'll just be bombarded by questions: How could you let this happen to you for so long? Why didn't you speak up? Don't you trust me to protect you? Why didn't you say anything to the teacher? How did you get cornered?" He stared down at his knees. "'How did you get cornered?' Great question."

Tatsuya nodded slowly. He could guess where this conversation had gone. "I see. Your father is the 'manly man' type. So you got questions not only like 'How did you get cornered?' but also ones like 'Why didn't you go ahead and use magic to defend yourself?' Because, of course, you could have cast a spell without a CAD." He considered the problem. "I imagine you were concerned the teacher and principal wouldn't side with you after you violated the school rule against using magic, and the boy stalking you might have not even been a magician. It could have caused a massive uproar, and then your dad would have had to use his clout to calm everyone down." He reached out and cupped Masaki's cheek. "I would guess you did the best job an eleven-year-old could do. I assume your father was already training you to be a soldier, but it wasn't like you were on a battlefield."

A miserable blush rose in Masaki's cheeks. "I tried to tell him that. I—" He stopped abruptly.

Tatsuya realized he would have never guessed that Masaki was holding onto something this painful. _You always seem to be smiling unless you're in a fight. But under the smile you have buried pains._ "You don't have to force yourself to say anything more," he murmured, holding Masaki closer to his side. "But if you need to vent, I will listen." He could thank Miyuki for this particular skill. He had spent five years now watching Miyuki get angry on his behalf. She felt the rage he couldn't feel, and he'd gotten good at listening while she vented it. Or, occasionally, stopping her from freezing someone to death.

"I told him that it wasn't my fault." Masaki growled the words through clenched teeth. "I didn't know it would happen. I thought I'd convinced the kid to stop. I told him to stop or else I _would_ fire a spell at him. He seemed like he was going to leave me alone. It had been a week without anything happening when he attacked me in the locker room. He waited until I was taking a shower and then he just knocked me to the floor and – " He pressed himself against Tatsuya's side. "I wasn't alone. There were witnesses. He did it anyway. How is that my fault?"

Tatsuya wrapped both arms around Masaki and hugged him. He didn't like the picture that Masaki's words were slowly making. "It's _not_ your fault. It was your attacker's fault." He was mystified by how anyone could think otherwise. He lifted one hand to Masaki's hair and caressed it. "I understand. Although you were a boy, you were trying to be a man—to solve the problem yourself. You thought you had it handled, so you didn't seek any assistance. And then a week later, you got blindsided." He stared at a blank spot on the wall. "They should be happy instead that you didn't kill the other boy from sheer instinct."

With a sad laugh, Masaki laid his head on Tatsuya's header. "I wasn't that far along in my soldier training yet. Part of my vigilance – that 'sheer instinct' you referred to – happened because of this experience." He relaxed against Tatsuya and closed his eyes. "That feels good," he murmured. "I like having my hair stroked."

"I see," Tatsuya whispered. He continued stroking Masaki's hair, his other arm looped around Masaki's shoulders still. "It was wrong. It shouldn't have happened to you." He realized he could understand this issue a bit better because he had a personal experience to attach it to. "It shouldn't happen to anyone." He considered what his therapist, Dr. Manoru, had told him about PTSD. "You have a trigger now. When you read these manga that are supposed to be romance stories and find instead assaults or rapes, your trigger goes off."

"Like a gun?" Masaki asked. "That's an interesting idea. It seems to be true, though. You're right. Seeing these things – being reminded that I can think I'm safe, but I'm really not – pulls my trigger."

Tatsuya's brain immediately jumped on that notion. _A false sense of safety—or a sense of looming threat. I understand both._ "You said communication is key to a relationship. If there is anything I do in real life that makes you feel unsafe, report it to me at once so I can remedy the situation." He considered his own obsessive need to have a counterspell for every spell he saw. "I have never been sexually threatened or assaulted, but I am not without triggers of my own. I understand that it is my responsibility to speak up if I realize one of my triggers has activated."

Masaki smiled at him softly and caressed his cheek. "For someone who says he's still learning about emotions, you do a good job of understanding relationships." Then his smile faded. "The extra effort it takes you must be exhausting. Yes, I want you to try to understand me, and yourself, and communicate, and do the work in therapy to push forward." He kissed Tatsuya's lips gently. "But when do you rest? If you never rest, you'll run yourself into the ground. Emotions can make you as tired as physical exercise. Sometimes more tired."

Tatsuya stared at Masaki for a moment, still coming to terms with the fact Masaki cared about him personally. In Masaki's eyes, he mattered: His emotions mattered, and his pleasure mattered. "I haven't been able to recover enough emotions to wear myself out, but I have noticed that I do feel tired sometimes when I leave therapy." He took Masaki's suggestion to heart. "I will rest." He cupped Masaki's cheek and pressed a return kiss to his lips. "You will need rest now, yourself." He mouthed Masaki's lips. "Although I don't know that this would count as rest . . ."

Masaki shifted and wrapped his arms around Tatsuya's shoulders. "Who cares? Let's both rest later." He drew Tatsuya into a mouthing kiss, pressing himself against him. The kiss communicated need, trust, passion, and probably other things Tatsuya simply wasn't skilled at detecting yet.

Tatsuya felt himself faintly stir as Masaki kissed him, and he returned the kiss, slipping his tongue into Masaki's mouth. He cupped the back of Masaki's head, filtering his fingers through his hair. _He confided something truly important. I have been accepted into his inner circle; I am sure of it._ If Tatsuya had needed further proof that this relationship was not mere sexual play, he now had it. _This is the Masaki that Kichijouji is allowed to see. In fact, Kichijouji is probably the only other one allowed to see this._

Masaki gasped, and Tatsuya felt a shiver sweep through Masaki's body. He climbed onto Tatsuya's lap, straddling him, and caressed Tatsuya's tongue with his own, cupping Tatsuya's face in both hands.

Tatsuya felt more heat seep into his body. The sheer level of attention contained in Masaki's touches and kiss gave him a sense of being special, and it occurred to him that part of being in a romantic relationship was the sense of being special in the other person's eyes. _You needn't fear, then, Ichijou Masaki. You are officially special in my eyes._ Tatsuya wasn't sure he could bring himself to say such a thing aloud, though.

Instead, Tatsuya did what he could to telegraph it. He ran both arms around Masaki's waist and kissed him deeply. He even found himself kneading Masaki's back with his hands.

Masaki moaned. He stroked Tatsuya's cheeks and then ran delicate fingers over Tatsuya's ears. Tatsuya opened his eyes halfway at the touch and discovered that a beautiful blush had overtaken Masaki's face.

Seeing this, Tatsuya found himself driven to give Masaki more pleasure. He enjoyed hearing Masaki's moans, and what was more, he was admittedly nervous about his ability to come again. He was concerned he wouldn't have the same success twice. The easiest thing to do, then, was to pleasure Masaki first. He broke the kiss and gazed into Masaki's eyes. "Is there something special that you would like to try? Perhaps something we haven't done before?" He caressed Masaki's chest with one hand.

Masaki blushed brighter at that. "Ah . . . Well . . ." He looked away. "It's easiest if we – There is a certain order people go in when they get more intimate with each other, but it's not a hard-and-fast rule. It's just that most people are more comfortable going in stages. Normally the next thing a couple would try, after doing what we've done, is . . . oral." He seemed to nearly die of embarrassment getting the word out.

For a moment, Tatsuya imagined offering Miyuki oral sex. He saw her fainting dead away as a result, her entire face bright red. He also couldn't really imagine what oral sex would be with a woman, and he had never had any interest in reading or watching the kinds of manga and anime that would give him clues. For men, though, he could visualize the process quite easily. "I see." He paused as he considered that Masaki would have already gone through this stage with Kichijouji. "Well, I assume you know what you're doing, and I can guess. If I'm doing something wrong, you can certainly tell me." Only then did he ask himself if he actually wanted the most private part of another man inside his mouth. He honestly wasn't sure, but he supposed he could try it out. "Do you need to wash up first?"

"Well – " Masaki gazed at Tatsuya with wide eyes. "If you want to do this, I won't stop you. And I do like it. But it might not be fair. I don't know if I'm ready to do the same for you, and if I can't, I'd feel like I cheated you. Wouldn't you feel cheated if I couldn't return the favor?"

Tatsuya kept his arms around Masaki's waist and paused to seriously consider the question. A solid minute passed before he spoke. "I would not feel cheated. First of all, I am going to try this as an experiment to see if I like it or not. If you need longer before you're willing to try it in return, that's fine. You have provided me with ample space and time to get as far as I have. If I did not extend you the same courtesy, I would be ridiculously cruel. But just as important is my second point: Although I value your commitment to sharing equal amounts of effort and pleasure with me, so one of us is not giving or receiving more than the other, I wouldn't want that to be carried so far that we were literally counting up a tally. Your commitment to equality is enough. I don't require a direct one-for-one ratio."

Masaki smiled ruefully. "You're being very mature about this. I wasn't sure. People have sore spots about different things. I didn't know if you would feel less loved or not." His expression grew serious. "All right. If you really want to try this with me, then I should wash up, yeah. It'll only take me a minute."

He climbed off of Tatsuya's lap with a solemn kiss to Tatsuya's forehead and retreated to the bathroom.

Tatsuya remained on the couch, unbothered by the brief interruption. Instead, he was consumed with two questions: What the source of Masaki's hesitance might be, and what it would take for him to feel loved. Tatsuya had finally allowed himself to accept that his feeling the emotion of love might be possible after all, and therefore with it now came the question of feeling loved in return. So far, all he could ascertain was that he would likely want the other person respect him and provide him with their attention. Those seemed like basic requirements that most people wanted.

Masaki returned wearing a hotel bathrobe. "I figured I may as well get comfortable." He blushed. "How do you want to do this? A lot of people do this in bed, with both people lying down. Or one person sitting on the bed and the other person kneeling on the floor on a pillow."

Tatsuya stopped to consider the options. Such ideas hadn't even occurred to him. The only exposure he'd ever gotten to the topic was actually a rape scene in a movie, and he wasn't about to use that as any source of knowledge. "Sitting up would be naturally easier on the neck, given the weight of a human head," he reasoned. "But when I consider what other people are likely to find romantic, I have to assume there is an appeal to both people being in bed." He stood and pulled Masaki into his arms. "Let's both lie on the bed." He pressed a kiss to Masaki's lips, hoping to calm him down. He seemed vaguely nervous.

Masaki relaxed against Tatsuya and returned the kiss. "All right. The bed would be more romantic." He led Tatsuya over to the bed and lay down on his back. The bathrobe disguised very little; Masaki was hard. "Come on up. Figure out the most comfortable position for you, and we'll adjust."

Tatsuya experienced a moment of discomfort as he faced actually carrying out the act. But he didn't back down. He had already wondered what making love to Masaki would be like, and growing more intimate with Masaki was the only way he'd ever find out. Thus committed to his course of action, he climbed on the mattress and considered his options. After a visual analysis, he climbed between Masaki's legs and lay on his stomach. He shifted a few times and then got his face into alignment with Masaki's groin. "I assume this will work," he murmured.

Masaki blushed harder. "Uh-huh." He tugged aside the bathrobe and released the sash, revealing himself. "I did it that way with Jouji. As long as you don't do it for an extended time, it should be fine."

Tatsuya found himself facing an arched, rosy erection. It was his first time seeing it, having only felt it through Masaki's clothing thus far. Masaki turned out to be nicely shaped and well-proportioned, as though every square inch of his body had been made beautiful. Tatsuya forgot to even acknowledge Masaki's answer. He reached out with his hand first and caressed over Masaki's erection. The bead of liquid that welled up on the tip came as no surprise, but seeing it up close and on another man's body was somewhat fascinating.

Masaki moaned and closed his eyes, his lips parting. "Tatsuya…" He rested one hand on his chest.

Tatsuya was glad to see Masaki relax. He considered the best way to go about this and realized he would have to hold Masaki's erection still. He gripped the base and experimentally licked up Masaki's underside. When that proved to be warm and tasteless, he slipped the tip into his mouth. Masaki was hot against his tongue, and he could smell the faint floral scent left from the soap. Tatsuya sucked on the tip, still curious.

Masaki moaned and shifted slightly, then made an obvious effort to keep himself still. A shiver ran through his hips. "Don't be afraid to experiment." He opened his eyes, caught sight of Tatsuya's expression, and closed his eyes with another moan. "You have no idea how sexy you are."

Tatsuya felt heat in his cheeks for once. That was the last thing he'd ever expected anyone to say, especially Ichijou Masaki. "Mn." He carefully slipped in two more inches of Masaki's length, concerned about his own gag reflex. Once he realized he was fine, he resumed sucking. To his relief, he couldn't taste anything, and Masaki was pleasantly warm in his mouth. He relaxed into the moment and focused his attention on Masaki's reactions instead.

A steady stream of soft moans rewarded him for his efforts. Masaki's body relaxed further, thighs opening more as the muscles released their tension. Masaki's blush had worked its way down his neck. The hand resting over his heart was limp. "Oh, god . . ."

Tatsuya could feel more heat in his cheeks, as well as heat growing in his groin. Listening to Masaki moan had a powerful effect on him. Reassured that things were going well, he decided to move his head. Supposedly that was part of the process. Masaki's length slid along his tongue, and it inspired him to give him a lick from inside his mouth. He moved his free hand to Masaki's hip and caressed him there.

Masaki cried out. His hips twitched, but he remained still otherwise. "Y-Yes. If you can, keep your hand there." He bit down on his fist to stifle another loud moan. "Tatsuya . . . I'm not going to last long this time."

Tatsuya felt uneasy at this announcement. He released Masaki long enough to say, "Tell me when to get out of the way."

"I will. Don't worry."

Appeased, Tatsuya sank Masaki back into his mouth and resumed, finding a certain pleasure in Masaki's heat gliding over his tongue. He pressed his free hand down on Masaki's hip, suspecting that Masaki was implying he needed his hips held still.

Masaki's breaths came harder and shallower. Moaning with more urgency, he shifted, and one hand came down to stroke Tatsuya's hair. His hips periodically shivered.

Tatsuya shifted on the mattress, his erection now achingly hard. Just having Masaki moan and squirm was enough to make his heart pound. The caressing of his hair implied to him that he was appreciated. Tatsuya felt himself loosening his restraint, and a faint moan escaped him as he continued sliding Masaki in and out of his mouth. He discovered he could use his tongue to stroke over Masaki's tip on the way back in.

Masaki gasped, and his chest heaved. "Tatsuya . . . god!" He filtered his fingers through Tatsuya's hair. His hips gave a little jerk. "I – Oh, god, yes—" He moaned sharply. "Move!"

Tatsuya immediately released Masaki and jerked his face away. With one hand, he kept Masaki aimed away from him, and with his other hand, he held down Masaki's right hip. The resulting display was satisfying in its own right.

Masaki's back bowed, and his hips jerked through his orgasm with a steadily decreasing series of twitches until he finally lay still. He let out a soft moan. "Come here and let me hold you. That was great. I hope you enjoyed it, too."

"It was surprisingly tolerable," Tatsuya said. He was impressed with how easy it had been, and he had to admit he was achingly hard now. "First let me get a washcloth and mop you up." He climbed off the bed and grabbed one from the bathroom, remembering the way Masaki had cleaned him up the last time. He returned and perched by Masaki as he wiped up the mess. Then he lay down by Masaki's side and wound one arm around his waist. "You are not like me—difficult to please. I would be willing to do this again."

With a sigh of contentment, Masaki slipped an arm around Tatsuya in return. "I'm glad you would be willing to do this again. I have to say, though, that even if you insist on calling yourself difficult to please, I don't experience it that way."

Tatsuya smiled and reached up to caress Masaki's cheek. Warmth filtered through his chest at Masaki's words. "I'm glad that you don't. I am not trying to be difficult, nor do I want your experience as my boyfriend to be one of difficulty."

"It's not." Masaki kissed Tatsuya's forehead. "I think you're a good boyfriend. Calm, carefully considerate, and today, you proved a good listener." He paused, looking embarrassed. "I don't know if I'll make it all the way, or if you'll even like it – everyone is different – but I'm willing to try doing oral and see if you like it."

Tatsuya was still half-hard, and hearing this made his erection twitch. He found himself marveling at how strongly his body could respond even without all his emotions. The brain was a mysterious thing. "All right. I am curious, and it looks like it feels good." He considered how upset Masaki had been earlier. "Just go as far as you can. I had to ask you to stop once, so it's not like I would get angry if you needed to stop." He realized he was grateful for the relationship cues Masaki was teaching him.

Masaki smiled. He kissed Tatsuya's lips. "Yes." That appeared to give Masaki the extra security Tatsuya had intended. "I'll speak up. If I have to, I'll help you finish in a different way." He stroked Tatsuya's chest. "How would you like to do this? Do you have any ideas about what would make it the best for you?"

Tatsuya shook his head. "I haven't a clue. I suppose I'll lie down like you did, unless your neck is already hurting you for some reason." He felt pleased that he'd managed to address Masaki's silent concerns.

"No. It's not hurting me." Masaki caressed Tatsuya's cheek. "Do you need to get cleaned up? Or would you like to? A few extra minutes won't hurt anyone."

"Yes, I should." Tatsuya pressed a kiss to Masaki's palm. Then he climbed off the bed, grabbing the washcloth and taking it to the bathroom with him. He got himself washed up and changed out of his clothes into a robe. He figured he'd lose his arousal during the process, and most of it had abated. But when he stepped back into the bedroom and saw Masaki on the bed awaiting him, he stirred once more.

He climbed onto the bed and settled on his back. He couldn't even imagine Miyuki wanting to try something like this, but he knew she might surprise him.

Masaki seemed to have only gained confidence in the short time they'd been apart. He settled between Tatsuya's legs, lying on his stomach, and pressed little kisses to Tatsuya's inner thighs. His hands rested on Tatsuya's hips, caressing. "Speak up if you get uncomfortable or if you want to stop. Don't just let me keep going because you think I need to prove something to myself."

"Okay. I will." Tatsuya gazed down at Masaki's beautiful face and realized he couldn't have found a safer lover for himself. Masaki already understood what he was doing sexually, and he had genuine respect and care for his lovers. Tatsuya felt glad he had pursued this relationship despite its initially unlikely nature.

Masaki smiled and gently kissed the tip of Tatsuya's erection. Then, as if reassured, he closed his eyes and kissed it again, mouthing. His hands flexed on Tatsuya's hips. A look of soft arousal and love suffused Masaki's face.

Tatsuya felt wild tingles from the first kiss, and then when Masaki began mouthing him, he gasped. A flood of sharp, hot arousal slammed through him, making him fully hard and aching again. He could have never imagined oral sex would feel so much better than manual sex. But Masaki's lips were soft and warm, and Tatsuya's body reacted with a powerful surge of pleasure that seemed to pull on every sexual instinct Tatsuya possessed.

Masaki grinned and took the first inch of Tatsuya into his mouth, caressing Tatsuya with his tongue and sucking gently. He resumed stroking Tatsuya's hips. A faint blush brightened Masaki's face. At least so far, Masaki seemed to be enjoying himself.

Tatsuya immediately learned why Masaki had been squirming on the mattress and forcibly holding his hips still. The moment Masaki's warm mouth encased more of his erection, Tatsuya's hips shuddered. He found himself clutching the sheet in both hands. He understood that this was the closest sensation he could have to traditional sex, and his body cried out for it. The second entity within him—the powerful one that desired to have its long ignored needs met—rose up like a dolphin leaping out of the ocean. Tatsuya was stunned by the crest of emotion that accompanied the physical pleasure, but Masaki's stroking of his hips urged him to not pull away. He moaned. He couldn't have held in the sound if he'd tried.

Masaki slowly sank another inch of Tatsuya into his mouth, and now he held Tatsuya's hips still. Moaning, he sucked and licked, going slow. This was probably for his own sake as much as for Tatsuya's. Masaki's flush deepened. His brow furrowed a little in concentration, but he still looked confident, even blissful.

Tatsuya was relieved that Masaki held his hips down. Then it felt as though Masaki were massaging his length with his mouth and tongue. The pleasure flared so hot that Tatsuya could barely keep his eyes open. He could feel the part of him that always acted to protect him—the part that would snap his emotions in half. It ran just under the current of pleasure, swirling, uneasy. Tatsuya reminded himself to keep breathing. He understood Masaki wouldn't hurt him, and he wanted the reassurance that he could come once more. He ended up panting and clutching the sheets harder. _It's—it's like . . . No, this . . ._

Abruptly, Tatsuya comprehended that he was being made love to. A sharp sensation streaked through his chest, half joyful and half painful.

Masaki moaned deeply and fed more of Tatsuya into his mouth. After a moment of caressing Tatsuya with his tongue, he moved his head slowly, sliding Tatsuya in and out. His soft, humming moans vibrated through Tatsuya.

Tatsuya stared with wide eyes for a moment, struck by Masaki's ability to enjoy what they were sharing. Then he had to close his eyes. A strange tingling sensation lit in his chest. _I'm being made love to. Someone wants to make love to me. Someone chose me—someone other than my own sister. Someone—someone loves me._ He had known this cognitively before, but this time the revelation occurred deeper. He felt his throat trying to tighten up with the unfamiliar emotion now percolating through him. His moans sounded hoarse. He wasn't sure he could handle this new emotion, but he was equally sure he wouldn't shove it away.

Masaki held Tatsuya down more firmly and increased his motions, breathing harder as he took Tatsuya in more and more, until he was fully encasing Tatsuya in his mouth with every stroke. He moaned and shifted on the bed.

Tatsuya's body reacted instantly to his hips being pinned, and instead of sending him a warning signal, it sent him a flood of fresh arousal. Having not expected it, and also having Masaki making love to him more passionately, Tatsuya cried out. Then he registered he was going to come. "Move!" he gasped.

Masaki jerked his head away, freeing Tatsuya with a gasp. Tatsuya clutched the sheets desperately, bearing down as his body came twice as hard as it had before.

Masaki rolled to one side as Tatsuya came and then shifted upwards to hold Tatsuya, snuggling against him. Tatsuya was left stunned and speechless. He took deep, even breaths and willed himself to relax into Masaki's embrace. The strange new feeling swirled around in his chest for a minute before fading along with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

For once, Tatsuya didn't know what to think. He was glad Masaki was embracing him. He stared at the ceiling, watching the play of light there, and realized something inside of him had shifted around. Something had changed. He knew something he hadn't known before, and he didn't know it in the head-brain, typical way. He suspected he had finally had the experience of learning something with his heart-brain.

The result was he remained silent, his head-brain eerily suspended with little conscious thought. He laid one hand on Masaki's arm, which was wrapped around his upper chest.

Masaki pressed kisses to Tatsuya's face. "That was beautiful. _You_ are beautiful." He seemed deeply moved. He nuzzled Tatsuya's temple, kissed his eyebrow. His arm tightened around Tatsuya's chest.

Tatsuya's lips parted as he began to speak, but then no words emerged. He gazed at Masaki's face, taking in his expression of love and care. Again, the new layer of revelation hit him: _Someone loves me. Someone not Miyuki. Someone not related to me. Someone who, in fact, used to hate me. Someone who opted to get to know me._ He couldn't fully explain his awe. It wasn't like he hadn't been sure that both Masaki and he were serious about their relationship. And yet the surprise remained. _Why this moment, this event, this version of love-making?_

Finally, Tatsuya reached up and caressed Masaki's cheek. Masaki seemed almost other-worldly in that moment. "As are you," he managed to whisper.

A smile of pure delight, of radiant love and something more Tatsuya couldn't name, broke out across Masaki's face, lighting his eyes. Masaki hugged him tightly and rested their heads together.

Tatsuya was reasonably sure that Masaki was experiencing some version of this feeling as well. And not having a damaged limbic system, Masaki was experiencing the feeling with more clarity and strength. But Tatsuya knew he had passed through some kind of gate, some kind of threshold experience. There was a line in the sand, a Before and an After. His relationship with Miyuki would be tested against this line, and should he ever have a relationship with someone other than Masaki or Miyuki, then that person would be tested against this line. He had found something he didn't think he could have, and now that he had it, he wouldn't settle for less.

Although Tatsuya was mindful of the mess he'd made when coming, he ignored it for the moment. They'd probably have to shower, anyway. He rolled onto his side so he could embrace Masaki in return. He wrapped his arm around Masaki's waist and pressed a kiss to his lips. He didn't dare try to put his thoughts into words. He simply said, "It turned out to be a special day." It was a ridiculous understatement, but it was the best he could do for now.

Masaki grinned and let out a laugh. "I'm glad." His expression softened, and he stroked Tatsuya's hair. "I'm very glad." He kissed Tatsuya in return and gazed into Tatsuya's eyes. He continued stroking Tatsuya's hair.

A new warmth, softer and quieter, seeped into Tatsuya's chest, and he reached up and caressed Masaki's hair as well.

They remained that way for several minutes, silently embracing, until Tatsuya's body relaxed enough to send him to sleep for a short nap. As his consciousness eased away, Tatsuya felt a level of peace he hadn't known was possible.


	9. What Is Love?

_**A/N:** Thank you to my anonymous reviewers! Since I can't PM you to give you my appreciation, let me call out to you here._

 _Also, to everyone: I now have rough drafts up through the end of Chapter 12. Work is busy right now, but I hope to keep the chapters coming!_

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 **What Is Love?**

The following morning, Tatsuya and Masaki headed to Mount Hiei for their hiking trip. Tatsuya was grateful for the physical activity and the low probability of sexual activity. He couldn't wrap his mind around what happened the previous night, and he didn't know what to think of it.

As they hiked, Tatsuya was able to remain mostly silent. Masaki, being extroverted, did most of the talking during the parts where talking was possible. However, part of the trail made speech impossible, and then they were both silent, focused on climbing steep inclines and absorbing the admittedly stunning beauty of nature.

Meals were brief. The sun was plentiful. The temperatures weren't too cold, the winter day being mild. All-in-all, Tatsuya enjoyed the experience, and Masaki seemed to as well. Tatsuya declared the trip a success and hoped Masaki didn't notice how truly quiet he was being. Surely Masaki couldn't detect that he wanted to avoid the topics of sex and love.

Afterward, they returned to the hotel and showered, then headed out into the city for a nice supper. That night, they slept in different beds, not wanting to disturb each other with tossing and turning.

In the morning, Tatsuya took the first train back to Tokyo, his brain still buzzing with his attempted analysis of the unusual lovemaking encounter.

But Tatsuya didn't have the experience or emotional understanding to complete the analysis.

* * *

Five days passed, and the only communication Masaki received from Tatsuya were text messages. Masaki, being no fool, knew that Tatsuya was keeping his distance. And after five days of it, Masaki ensconced himself with Kichijouji in his room. He felt forlorn.

"Tatsuya's been nearly ignoring me all week." Masaki shifted on the floor and lay down, putting his head in Kichijouji's lap. The door was locked so Akane couldn't barge in on them. "Just a few text messages. That's all. And he was absolutely distant on Sunday." His stomach knotted. Things had been going so well. Tatsuya and he hadn't even had their first lover's spat yet, and Masaki had thought Saturday night's lovemaking was amazing, despite his initial concerns.

Kichijouji stroked Masaki's hair. "Do you remember our first sexual experience? You did the same thing. Not to the same extent, but you did need extra distance from me to process what had happened. After all, in some ways your attraction to me was just a theory until we did something heavier than kissing, and then you had to come to terms with being bisexual."

"True," Masaki muttered. He had tumbled around on the inside like wet laundry in a dryer. Being able to accept Kichijouji's touches had been easy, even the first time. Touching back, though, had challenged the foundation of who he was. Even though he'd been proud he could make Kichijouji feel good, he'd nearly had a panic attack from having to face his attraction to men. "Still, Tatsuya and I have already done other things and come from them. I didn't expect oral to make him withdraw." He rolled and tucked his face against Kichijouji's stomach. "And you know how hard it is for me to feel safe while doing that . . . considering what that asshole tried to do to me in sixth grade."

Kichijouji stroked his arm and continued petting his hair. "I know. You feel as though your trust was rejected. What if . . . What if the reality is that you were truly accepted by Tatsuya for the first time? He did say he has trouble connecting to his emotions. Maybe you did such a good job connecting with him that he finally understands that he loves you. With everything you've told me, I think that would scare him."

Masaki did his best to stay calm and listen to Kichijouji. Kichijouji had been his confidant for five years now. Kichijouji was many things: his best friend, his boyfriend, his confidant, his strategist, and the one person who truly knew everything about him and accepted it all. As was. Masaki valued that acceptance more than anything precisely because Kichijouji had seen all of who he was and still extended it. When they had become lovers, it had seemed natural to Masaki, despite his difficulty in facing his bisexuality.

Now Masaki was trying to extend that acceptance to Tatsuya. He had done so for Kichijouji years earlier, and that had worked out well. Tatsuya seemed a harder case. At the baseline, Tatsuya and Kichijouji were very similar in personality: each one was focused on magic-based science and research, each was perfectionistic, each was good at strategy, and each was a very private person. However, Kichijouji had learned to speak Masaki's more emotion-based "language," while Tatsuya reported emotional dampening due to a surgery. In order to date Tatsuya, Masaki had put himself out there, laying his heart on the line. If not for his intuition telling him Tatsuya would rise to the challenge, Masaki would have never attempted it.

"I suppose it would scare him," Masaki finally replied with a sigh. "He says he feels little fear, but to the extent he could feel it, it would have to be scary to connect with someone romantically and sexually when you'd assumed that was impossible before. After all, it does make you vulnerable."

Kichijouji shook his head with a frown. "Remember when I was having panic attacks when I moved from Sado Island, and I was frustrated because I couldn't figure out what was happening to me? You told me our bodies are physical, apart from us, and that it didn't matter if I didn't think I was afraid. I was still afraid anyway. Being numb to or ignorant of terror doesn't make it not exist. And Tatsuya came to you and said his brain scan showed he is functioning only ten percent below normal." He still continued stroking Masaki's hair. "What if Tatsuya simply can't tell when he's afraid?"

Masaki considered that, letting Kichijouji comfort him with the caresses to his hair. "He probably can't. If you were convinced you can't feel emotion, and for the longest time, you basically couldn't . . . then when your brain started to heal, it would go so slowly you wouldn't notice your feelings coming back. You'd have them, but then you wouldn't know precisely what they were. I think that's especially true since he was a little kid when that surgery happened. And our culture teaches boys to hide or suppress their emotions anyway, which would make it even harder. So, yeah. You're probably right. He got spooked, and he doesn't even know it's fear." He sighed. "I'm not the person who could tell him. If I said so, he would probably feel threatened because I'm a fellow boy. The only person who could figure it out would be his sister, but I doubt he ever talks to her about his relationship with me. The sum of it is probably, 'I'm off to see Masaki. I'll be back tomorrow.'"

Kichijouji snorted. "Do you really want your former crush to get a military-style download of your relationship with her brother/husband-to-be?" He considered Masaki's worry. "Tatsuya has a therapist, doesn't he? If he's as logical as he appears to be, he'll go to see her."

"Oh." Masaki managed to relax some. "Yeah. That's true. He would." He got to what was really driving this worry. "If he really is avoiding me because he finally really Felt Something—and it did seem like he did—then he's finally staring the truth in the face. Even after messing around with me, he might not have really comprehended he was in a serious romantic relationship with a man. And everyone knows . . . sometimes when people truly face their sexuality, they just freak out and run away." He glanced up at Kichijouji. "You get that. You were afraid _I_ would freak out and run away."

"I was," Kichijouji agreed without shame. "And some people do that." He paused. "Tatsuya has gone so far as to get therapy behind his aunt's back and contradict everything he knew about himself in order to have a relationship with you. Do you think he is the type to give up on a path he's started? The Shiba Tatsuya I've observed would refuse to give up the course."

Masaki pondered that as well. "He's not a quitter. I don't know if it's bravery or not. If you can't feel fear, or if you think you can't, then it's not courage that makes you march forward. But we can at least say it's stubborn determination, if nothing else. Plus he's a genius. Emotions and interpersonal connections may be his weak spots, but you're right: he would refuse to back down." He sighed. "Okay. I'll try not to panic. But I can't feel safe until he stops being so distant. I've stretched my neck out really far to try connecting with Tatsuya in this way. I don't want my head to get lopped off in the end."

Kichijouji massaged Masaki's scalp. "I know. You went out of your way the same as you did with me in the beginning. You didn't know me, but you took a chance that there was something special inside of me. You gambled that I could offer you something in return." He smiled slightly. "You have a way of making people want that to be true to themselves. I don't think it's possible that you failed to touch Tatsuya's heart. The only issue is that he doesn't know what to do with that experience without being helped. If you want my opinion, the surest course you could take would be to bring it out into the open for him. He's bad at that."

"Bring it out in the open?" Masaki cringed. "How so?"

Kichijouji smiled. "By treating Tatsuya the same way you treat me: Ask him what's wrong, listen carefully, and use your superior empathy to come up with a solution."

"Ah." Masaki took Kichijouji's hand and squeezed it. He fell silent for a moment, imagining how that situation might play out. Then he sat up and faced Kichijouji, still holding his hand. "I have to admit . . . I still have part of my emotional armor up. I'm trying to keep pace with Tatsuya's level of commitment and sharing without getting out ahead of him. If I go all in, and he dumps me, then I'd be devastated."

Kichijouji hugged Masaki tightly. "I know. It's a terrible risk. But I have to point out one thing: you don't actually have another mode. Masaki, you need to face that the reason you're so scared is that you've already gone all in."

"Ah, shit." Masaki hugged Kichijouji back. "I did _not_ want to hear that." He couldn't deny the observation, though. He thought back on the last few months and realized he'd fallen in love with Tatsuya the instant Tatsuya had returned his first kiss—with desire. Once Masaki had realized he was wanted, he hadn't been able to hold on to his internal reins. "I kept telling myself I was being careful! And now here I am in love with someone who claims he can't love anybody!"

Kichijouji stroked Masaki's hair and caressed Masaki's cheek. He pressed a light kiss to his boyfriend's lips. "Claims, maybe. But is it true? The fact is, even people suffering from adult maladaptive narcissism, borderline personality disorder, or psychopathy feel love. Love is an irrational-seeming emotion guided by feelings of warmth towards those who are good to us and who make us wish for closer contact. Is that not what's happening with Tatsuya?"

Masaki nodded slowly. He at least couldn't deny that Tatsuya loved Miyuki. That much had become obvious with time. Tatsuya might not be able to recognize it as love, but his actions were very much driven by an intense, personal need to keep Miyuki safe. "He loves Miyuki- _san_. But does he love me? That's the real question here."

"Only time can answer that question. Unfortunately." Kichijouji hugged him closely again. "Especially since people fall in love at different rates and in different ways."

Masaki clutched his boyfriend, resigning himself to worry.

* * *

Meanwhile, across the nation in Tokyo, Tatsuya reported to his weekly therapy session and perched uncomfortably in what he usually found to be a comfortable armchair.

Dr. Manoru observed him with her keen but calm manner. "Has anything happened since we spoke last that you would like to talk about?"

Tatsuya sighed and looked away, gaze falling upon the fern in the corner of the office. It was live, not silk, and for some reason, he often ended up staring at it. He didn't normally talk about present events. Their focus had been either on unearthing his unconscious beliefs about himself and his "condition" or on practicing mind-body-emotional awareness. This time, though, he had the sinking feeling that he would have to get help with the present. "Masaki and I . . ." He frowned. He still felt uncomfortable discussing sex so bluntly with a woman, even if she was his therapist. ". . . got more intimate."

Dr. Manoru nodded as if this were normal. "Did you further your goals? Were you able to feel more in the moment? Or were there challenges?"

Tatsuya dragged his gaze back to her. "We tried oral sex. It worked. I—" He pushed himself forward. "—came. That makes the second time now. I was able to stay in the moment, so the techniques we're working on seem to be helping." He paused and took a breath. "Then I felt something." He still found the words odd to say. "An emotion. I don't know which one. But I understood—truly comprehended—that Masaki was making love to me."

"This disconcerted you," Dr. Manoru suggested. "You have learned that you have greater capacity for emotions and also decided you want them, but now that you have a new one you don't know what to do with it."

"Yes." Tatsuya tugged at the wrist of his sleeve; it felt too tight. The constriction bothered him suddenly. "It was a powerful emotion. Something shifted. I saw Masaki differently. I saw our relationship differently. I felt like I'd crossed some kind of threshold, but I have no idea what that threshold would be. Even nearly a week of analysis hasn't helped me figure it out."

"Perhaps that is because you never learned about emotions," Dr. Manoru said. "By the time you would have been developmentally ready to learn how to have and tolerate different emotions, you had already undergone your surgery, which resulted in a great deal of muffling between the effects of the physical and emotional damage. I suggest that you try to be merciful with yourself. I know you are highly intellectual, and you expect much of yourself. Emotions are difficult for anyone of your personality type, and you are working at a disadvantage. But it's all right not to be perfect."

Tatsuya felt his brow furrow. "I will try. Miyuki would want me to be merciful to myself." He paused. "Do people who are in a serious relationship feel a shift at some point during intimacy? I can guess the shift occurs at different times—perhaps the first time they come together, the first time they engage in oral sex, or the first time they have sexual intercourse. But is it relatively common for most couples? Is my experience . . . normal?"

Dr. Manoru smiled slightly. "Many of my clients report amazement that a shift has occurred; some people view this shift as so mundane they don't remark upon it. Physically, what has happened is that your body has released certain chemicals for the first time. These chemicals are associated with certain feelings, and these chemicals are meant to help us bond with others."

"Brain chemicals that cause us to bond with others," Tatsuya echoed, trying to shift his worldview to accept this new information. He vaguely remembered hearing about it years earlier, but he'd been in junior high school. He hadn't cared at the time, and he'd thought his brain wouldn't work that way. "So either that part of my limbic system still works or it's another part of my brain." He considered the concept. "Having sex can cause the chemicals to release, and then I feel closer to my partner, yes?"

"Yes." Dr. Manoru nodded. "It is important to consider a few factors. Your mental comfort, not only rationally but emotionally, plays a large part in whether or not these chemicals release. Physical comfort and a sense of safety your body can appreciate is another. A third is attraction; whether or not on an instinctive level you can't control, you find your partner attractive. When emotional comfort and physical comfort combine with attraction, these chemicals usually release. That is a feeling that you wish to be closer to Masaki, and that you want more out of the relationship than you previously calculated."

Realizing he was normal, Tatsuya relaxed. "Yes. I hadn't calculated it in at all, even as serious as I was. I set a goal for greater intimacy, but I did so without having any idea of what that would mean or look like—other than perhaps having intercourse eventually." He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "I do find Masaki attractive, and I've discovered Masaki has a deep, innate hatred of sexual abuse. This provides me an extra layer of safety."

Dr. Manoru smiled again, warmth in her eyes. "I am glad you are able to feel comforted by Masaki. In many ways, you were not often offered comfort, were you? So Masaki and the way you feel when you are with him is new."

Tatsuya snorted. "Until I was thirteen and Miyuki's attitude toward me changed, I wasn't offered any comfort of any kind. I wasn't included. I was completely excluded—an outcast working as a servant in my own family. Never good enough. Not seen as human. A failed lab experiment." He felt a small burn inside his stomach, and he had learned this meant he'd successfully accessed anger. "With Masaki, I am seen as special and wanted. I am treated as an equal. I have been included. In fact, this past weekend, Masaki took me into his confidence and told me he was sexually assaulted when he was eleven."

"So you understood for the first time that Masaki includes you in a special part of his life," Dr. Manoru said. "This in turn helped you feel that you are special and lovable. Feeling special and lovable gave you the reassurance you needed to extend Masaki the trust of your body. Masaki rewarded this trust, and as a result, you wish to be closer to him because you want to continue to be special and lovable."

"Yes." Tatsuya was relieved to be able to understand and wrap his mind around what had happened. He hadn't wanted to go to therapy, but at this point, he had to admit it was helping. "I already know Miyuki sees me as special and lovable. The problem there is I haven't been able to completely convert from seeing her as my sister to seeing her as my future wife." He raised one eyebrow and shot Dr. Manoru a wry look. "I think I can be excused for not making swift progress on that count."

"Yes." Dr. Manoru smiled, and the expression was equally wry. "You wish to be treated as special by someone other than your sister, even if she becomes your wife. People generally long for acknowledgement outside of their families."

"Right." Tatsuya felt himself relax deep within. "I was secretly judgmental about Masaki's level of idealism. Now I'm glad he has it. He's intuitive about people; he understands them a way I know I never will. And that has turned out to make him a good boyfriend. Or it's part of the reason, anyway. Before, he hated me at first, but now he treats me in a gallant manner. That is the kind of person that it is worth being acknowledged by."

Dr. Manoru seemed to consider his words carefully. "You also feel accomplished and proud of yourself, perhaps, for being able to gain the attention of someone who previously was not willing to give you the kind of attention you wanted from others. Do you have a clear understanding of why Masaki changed his mind?"

Tatsuya paused and pondered the question. "No. He had been in love with my sister. Once he transferred his attention off of Miyuki, he accepted his best friend as his boyfriend. But he noticed me, too." He vaguely waved one hand through the air. "Then we kissed. We just kissed. And it worked. I felt something."

Dr. Manoru nodded along to show she was listening in a typically Japanese show of good manners. "You both underwent a sexual awakening. However, this doesn't explain Masaki's emotional response to you. You speak of his attention 'transferring' to you. What does this mean for you?"

Tatsuya grappled with the question for a moment. Dr. Manoru had a way of asking him questions he couldn't immediately answer. "What I have noticed about other people is when they become attracted to someone, it seems to either be pure lust or infatuation. And I've noticed that the ones who seem lustful view their crush as an object and not a person, while the infatuated ones begin to view their crush as a special person. Someone they imagine will prove worthy of loving. So when Masaki's attention landed on me, I guess some part of me might have wondered if he could view me as special in the 'worthy of loving' way. And if he did . . ." He paused. "I don't know, honestly." That rendered him silent for several moments. "I wasn't thinking any of this at the time, but last weekend, I could see that Masaki loves me. It was on his face, in his actions. It radiated out of him."

"That must have been a very powerful experience for you," Dr. Manoru said. "Being able to observe someone's love for yourself instead of being told they love you—being able to see that love instead of being asked to take this fact on faith—provides you with something more meaningful for you."

"Yes. I think that's correct, and it explains the mystery emotion I had."

"I encourage you to remain curious about your mystery emotions," Dr. Manoru said. "Instead of being threatened or wanting to shut them down, explore them."

Tatsuya nodded.

"As for your romantic life, I suggest you look up the five love languages," Dr. Manoru said. "I think you will find them helpful. Knowing what your love language is, as well as Masaki's and Miyuki's, will help with communication in your relationships.

"I will, then." As usual, Dr. Manoru had given Tatsuya much to think about or research. He liked the challenge, and he wanted the payoff, especially since two people he cared about were impacted by his efforts.

And, in a very real sense, Tatsuya believed he could never have too much information.


	10. A Growing Need

**Chapter 10**

 **A Growing Need**

After Tatsuya's therapy appointment, another week passed before he saw Masaki again. They seemed to have fallen into a rhythm of spending every other weekend with each other, alternating so that Kichijouji and Miyuki got an equal amount of time. After all, during the week, their school work load and training schedules were too heavy to allow for weeknight dates.

In fact, this past week had been extra busy. A few leads popped up on Petrov, although they resulted in dead ends. The Ichijou network reported that Petrov was back in the New Soviet Union for now, but another shipment of random parts was intercepted. Between that, school, and CAD designs, Tatsuya had been all business.

As the weekend approached, though, Tatsuya texted Masaki and asked him if he'd like to go hiking up Mt. Fuji this time. The previous week had been bitterly cold, but a warm front had moved in. It was a good opportunity.

Masaki agreed and arranged for them to spend the weekend at the Ichijou's Tokyo house, which they would have all to themselves.

Tatsuya considered the love languages he had researched at Dr. Manoru's suggestion. He understood showing love through quality time and acts of service. Physical affection seemed an obvious choice. Words of encouragement seemed like a standard practice to Tatsuya, and gift-giving was traditional. He wasn't sure yet what his love language was, and he wasn't sure what kind of gift to buy a boyfriend. Knowing Masaki, it would need to be red and perhaps related to motorcycles. But Tatsuya wasn't willing to try yet. Miyuki was far easier to buy a gift for.

By the time Tatsuya arrived at the Ichijou house and rang the doorbell, he realized some part of him was vaguely nervous. He knew he'd pulled back for a solid week and then spent the next week too busy. He didn't want to end up provoking Masaki's anger and causing a lover's spat. He knew he would be willing to work through a spat, but he wasn't sure what Masaki's response would be.

Masaki answered the door immediately. He was dressed in clothes that would have seemed laidback had the t-shirt not been obviously 11,000 yen all by itself and if his khaki pants hadn't been immaculate. "It's great to see you. Come in." He stepped aside. "I, ah, counted on you being hungry. You like teriyaki chicken pizza, right? I remember you seemed to like it better than the seafood one."

The smell of pizza wafted at Tatsuya from the small kitchen area.

 _He nearly stuttered,_ Tatsuya noted as he stepped inside and dropped his backpack on the floor. _The distance has bothered him._ He abruptly realized that if it had been Miyuki, the distance would have probably made her a nervous wreck. Tatsuya swallowed a sigh. _I need to figure out how to communicate that all is well._ "Yes. Teriyaki chicken is my preference." He toed off his shoes and pulled Masaki into a hug, hoping to reassure him. The instant his arms slipped around Masaki's warm body, he felt a pang. _Oh. I've missed him._

Masaki hugged him back tightly. The desperation was obvious. Masaki held onto him for a moment in silence and even stroked the back of his head. Then Masaki whispered, "Did you – Was it too much? Did we go too quickly? I pride myself on being able to read people, but I still could've misread you. I just wanted you to feel . . . loved." The last word came out especially painfully.

Tatsuya felt a sharp sensation in his chest—a type of emotional pain that was new to him. He couldn't name the specifics, but he realized he didn't need to. " _No_ ," he found himself saying forcefully. He softened his voice. "No," he whispered gently. He hugged Masaki to him tighter and reached up, stroking Masaki's hair since Masaki had said he liked that. "You didn't misread me at all. It wasn't bad. It was—" He wanted to groan at the lack of appropriate words and then settled for the best he could do. "It was _too_ good. It took me days to figure out the brand new emotion it generated." He could imagine Dr. Manoru cheering for him in a stadium and pushed himself forward another step. "I pulled back to do an analysis. I'm sorry it spooked you."

Masaki drew back and met Tatsuya's gaze. "Too good? Um, well . . . thanks." He seemed flustered. Then he grinned. "It's okay!" He kissed Tatsuya and took his hands. "I'm glad it was good. I—" He swallowed, and his expression softened. His blue-green eyes shone with that emotion Tatsuya had come to identify as love. "I hated the thought that I might have hurt you, that's all." He squeezed Tatsuya's hands. "I never want to do that."

Tatsuya felt the words like a physical impact, and he knew it was because Masaki truly meant them. He pulled Masaki back into his arms and kissed him. To his surprise, his body reacted to Masaki's words with arousal. Or happiness that led to arousal? Tatsuya wasn't sure. He just knew that he had to have Masaki in his arms, and as soon as he kissed him, he slipped his tongue into Masaki's mouth. Masaki's warmth and faint pinecone-like scent filled his senses, and he stirred halfway hard. His pulse jumped.

Masaki moaned and rested his hands on Tatsuya's shoulder blades, clinging as if he wanted to meld them together. He caressed Tatsuya's tongue with his own, kissing in return. Masaki grew hotter in Tatsuya's arms. Another little, low moan escaped Masaki.

 _My need is so strong . . ._ Tatsuya didn't know what to think. He knew he could stop himself. Even the tiniest bit of pressure would snap this emotion in half, killing it. But he chose not to. He found himself backing Masaki across the foyer and pinning him against the wall. A magical sweep of the house told Tatsuya they were alone, so he didn't restrain himself. He pressed his body against Masaki's, feeling wanton in the way he let Masaki feel his hardness. He continued kissing Masaki deeply, caressing his tongue. Then he slipped one hand down to cup Masaki's butt.

Masaki moaned louder and arched against Tatsuya, panting. He didn't seem threatened by being pinned; in fact, he seemed more aroused. Tatsuya felt Masaki harden against him. The instant the kiss ended, Masaki whispered, "Oh, god, Tatsuya. Yes."

Tatsuya's body shivered at the sound of Masaki's voice, and he saw a beautiful blush had worked its way down Masaki's neck. Tatsuya felt his erection twitch and throb. He realized this was the most aroused he'd been yet, and he wasn't sure what was driving it. _It must be because he loves me,_ Tatsuya reasoned, and he wondered if it could truly be that simple.

Tatsuya remembered what Masaki had said about some lovers tying each other up. He grasped Masaki's wrists and pinned them to the wall in line with Masaki's shoulders. Then he kissed Masaki again, still using his body to press Masaki against the wall. The action, as simple as it was, made his erection throb so hard it ached. He moaned into their kiss.

Masaki kissed Tatsuya back passionately, his moans sharp. He slipped his tongue into Tatsuya's mouth now. Masaki felt as hard as Tatsuya was. At least as far as Tatsuya could tell, Masaki was ecstatic. His back arched off the wall.

Tatsuya began to understand he was trying to telegraph something to Masaki: two weeks' worth of pent up feelings about the lovemaking they had shared. He hadn't detected the emotions any more than he had detected that he'd missed Masaki, but now the feelings were surfacing rapidly. He caught Masaki's tongue and sucked on it.

When the kiss broke, Tatsuya turned, bringing Masaki with him. Using his training, he brought Masaki to the floor quickly, although he did so without any force. The instant Masaki was lying down, Tatsuya pinned him to the floor, using both his body weight and his hands on Masaki's wrists. He pressed another kiss to Masaki's lips, and then kissed his way down Masaki's throat. Masaki's erection was trapped between them along with his own, and he could feel that Masaki was throbbing as well.

Masaki gasped at the sudden movement, but he didn't struggle. His expression shone with trust. He tilted back his head, baring his neck to Tatsuya's mouth. "Tatsuya!"

"Mn." Tatsuya felt himself leaking through his underwear. If he had thought they were both ready, he would have stripped them both naked and made love to Masaki on the spot. But he knew better. Instead, he sucked on Masaki's neck and then nibbled the skin. He pulled Masaki's wrists over his head and pinned them with one hand. Then he reached down between them and caressed over Masaki's throbbing hardness through his clothes.

Masaki's moan cracked through him. He arched into Tatsuya's touch, his breaths getting more ragged. "Tatsuya! Oh – Oh god, I might come right here. Like this."

A small flood of wetness dampened Tatsuya's underwear at this declaration. "Don't hold back," he said, and he could hear the intensity in his tone. He worked his hand inside of Masaki's underwear, wrapping his long fingers around Masaki's erection and pumping. He kept Masaki's wrists pinned to the floor and just watched the stunning beauty of Masaki's pleasure glowing on his flushed face. Masaki's lips were parted as he panted, and the sight was so arousing that it caused Tatsuya to spontaneously lick up Masaki's neck.

Masaki cried out and shivered, squirming. Sweat dampened his forehead. He leaked all over Tatsuya's hand, gasping and moaning deeply. Then, with another cry, he came, arching against Tatsuya one last time and then going limp. Bliss and contentment suffused his face, making it radiant.

It took a moment for Tatsuya to extract his hand, and then he released Masaki's wrists and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Sexy," he murmured, thinking of the way Masaki had told him he was sexy. "Quite sexy." He lay on top of Masaki, his own erection still throbbing, and drank in the sight of Masaki's warm, satiated expression.

Masaki wrapped his arms around Tatsuya's shoulders and kissed his lips. His eyes were barely open. "I'm glad you think so. Thank you. Tatsuya . . ." His voice caught. He ran his fingers through Tatsuya's hair. "Tatsuya, please don't . . . If something ever happens again, just tell me. I'll understand. If you're afraid, it's okay. This is all very new to you. Some of it's new to me, too. I've gotten scared before. It doesn't make you less of a man."

Tatsuya gave Masaki a small smile. "I—ah, yes." A faint snort of amusement escaped him. "I see. Communication. Yes, that's what you've been trying to tell me: I have to communicate." He cupped Masaki's cheek with his dry hand. "I'm sorry. Even after I had resolved the problem within myself, I didn't admit anything was wrong to begin with. I had hoped you wouldn't notice that I had withdrawn, but you're too smart to miss it." He kissed Masaki's lips again. "It made you worry, and needlessly. That was my fault." He caressed Masaki's cheek. "I will prioritize working on my communication skills. I shouldn't try to pretend that I'm perfect."

Masaki laughed. He kissed Tatsuya back with a glowing expression. "You're very attractive when you're being yourself. You know, you should try this more often. Not just with me. It couldn't hurt to show your soft side with others." He stroked Tatsuya's back.

Tatsuya just cringed, although not without an element of humor. _I'm glad you like the real me. But it is definitely not safe to show this side of myself to anyone other than you and Miyuki._ "You're naturally charismatic," he murmured. "It can be quite disarming." He leaned in and mouthed Masaki's lips for a moment. "I feel pleased that I am the one who gets to pleasure you. Other than Kichijouji, of course."

"You have no idea, do you?" Masaki stared up at him. "How special you are? I'm equally proud that I get to be the one you're falling in love with—besides your sister. I mean, how can that not be a huge compliment? The first person outside your own family you want to bond with is me." He kissed Tatsuya in return. "Sometimes I can't believe it. That's why it was so easy instead to believe you might pull away and leave."

"Then I have yet to make you feel special enough," Tatsuya decided, his tone matter-of-fact. "I will work on that." He could feel a bit of heat in his cheeks from Masaki's compliment; it was strange to have gained the ability to have such a reaction. "I am honored that you find me to be special. But I assure you, other than Miyuki and two of my cousins, no one in my family is worth bonding with in any form or fashion."

Tatsuya pushed himself to his feet, bringing Masaki along with him. "That had to have been getting uncomfortable, especially on a hard wood floor." He pressed another kiss to Masaki's lips. "You'd best take me to the pizza or I will shame myself by ravishing you all over again." He sighed. "My therapist says the bulk of my emotions are simply repressed, so when they finally emerge, they can explode out of me. That is how I ended up fighting in Okinawa. Miyuki very nearly died in the attack, and when my anger broke loose, I essentially went berserk."

Masaki shook his head. "I believe you when you say that you have a lot of repressed emotions, but if one of my sisters almost died, I'd go berserk too, and I try not to repress anything." He kissed Tatsuya quickly and held Tatsuya's hand as he walked to the kitchen and got plates out for the two boxes of pizza on the counter. Then he left to go get himself cleaned up.

Tatsuya washed his hands at the kitchen sink and served himself two slices of teriyaki pizza.

When Masaki returned, he opened the box of seafood pizza. "Did you mean what you said about your family? That no one much is worth bonding with? Your dad isn't any better than your aunt?"

Tatsuya perched on a stool at the kitchen island. "He's a very different person, but he's not any better, no. He's frankly afraid of me and avoids me as much as he can. It's like I don't exist. He calls Miyuki sometimes, but the only person he's really interested in is his second wife." He took a bite of pizza.

Masaki winced, looking horrified. "That's terrible." He sat down beside Tatsuya with his own two slices of pizza. He lifted a slice but didn't eat it. "Why would he be afraid of you? He's your dad."

Tatsuya frowned. "Although my abilities are incredibly lopsided, I'm ultimately stronger than he is. I have been told most fathers are proud if their sons achieve more. Mine is just scared." He took a bite of pizza and wasn't bothered that it was lukewarm now.

Masaki took an overly large bite of pizza, chewed on it for half a minute, then swallowed. He didn't look any less upset; in fact, now he was frowning. "That's cruel."

Tatsuya reached out and squeezed Masaki's knee. "You are very empathetic. I appreciate that. As far as I can tell, it doesn't bother me emotionally. Then again, I suppose it could be firmly repressed. I honestly don't know. I have no real relationship with him."

"But that's wrong," Masaki said, staring down at his pizza. "Your dad is all you have. I thought—" He sighed miserably and looked at Tatsuya. "I thought your relationship with your dad must be okay. You never bonded at all?"

Tatsuya took another bite of pizza and shook his head. "Miyuki is still angry because when I got accepted into First High, Father didn't congratulate me. Only her. I didn't feel angry, of course, but in retrospect, I can say the incident sums up our relationship—or lack thereof. We speak if we see each other at FLT. But that's it." He had told Masaki about his work at FLT, although he hadn't yet revealed the part about Taurus Silver. "Probably the most family-like thing he's ever said to me is that he would understand if I hated my mother because of the surgery she made me undergo. But even that wasn't a show of empathy on his part."

Masaki stared. "But he's your _dad_. How can he be so cold?"

"Well, it isn't hard," Tatsuya said. "My father's actually scared of the Yotsuba in general. He's probably the most scared of me, though." He paused. "Initially, Miyuki mistreated me as well, but she was the one who turned the corner and accepted me. She even fell in love with me, although I don't understand why. I already knew my mother didn't love me."

Masaki paled flushed. "That's horrible! That's all horrible from start to finish. No wonder you can't stand to feel anything. If you felt anything at all it would always be pain." He set down his pizza and hugged Tatsuya tightly. "I'm sorry this happened to you. I'm sorry it sucks. I'm sorry your family doesn't count for anything and isn't a real family. That's not fair. Jouji lost his parents, but at least he had parents to begin with. I'm a rich kid with a perfect family and a dad who actually cares about me and my sisters. And I have a mom who stays home to nurture us. I'm so spoiled. Really. You can't even know what it's like to have a normal life. This is _awful_."

Although it was true Tatsuya couldn't understand what Masaki's life must be like—even though it sounded quite ideal—he found he felt vindicated by Masaki's response. He had believed himself to be "above" needing others to acknowledge him, his experiences, or his suffering, but it felt bolstering to have someone who loved him recognize and _care_ about the injustice. He realized it was similar to the relief Miyuki provided when she got angry on his behalf.

Tatsuya set down his pizza and slipped his arms around Masaki's waist. "Thank you," he said simply.

Masaki cupped the back of Tatsuya's head with one hand and looked into Tatsuya's eyes with determination. "I'm not going to stand for it. You're getting the life you deserve. No one deserves to be treated the way you were. Not even war criminals. It's called cruel and unusual punishment. They experimented on you! You're not a science project. You're a human being. I don't care if you can't ever 'feel' anything the way people demand that you do to be 'normal.' You still feel enough. How can you ever feel anything except fucked up as long as your entire family support consists of a child bride who happens to be your own sister?"

Tatsuya was momentarily speechless, having not expected this reaction. Then he realized that Masaki was an inherently idealistic person—not in an unrealistic way but rather in a humanitarian way. "Ah—well, she won't be a child when we marry," he protested. Then he subsided as he considered the heart of what Masaki had said. "I suppose the lack of family support, love, and care would qualify as emotional neglect, and therefore child abuse." In his mind, he heard the voice of Dr. Manoru saying, _You speak in such clinical ways about yourself, as though you are a client to yourself. Why do you think you use such distancing moves?_

Tatsuya sighed. "Your observations are accurate. That is, I have no doubt Dr. Manoru would agree with everything you've said. My ability to see and comprehend the size of the problem is still limited. Although I understand my life is different than others' lives, given how rich and powerful my family is, I have grown up thinking that this emotional neglect is not unusual. Also, I had no friends prior to high school, so I didn't have others' experiences to compare mine against. Everything I saw on TV I assumed was wildly inaccurate tripe penned by over-emotional sods."

Masaki snorted and then burst out laughing. "Over-emotional sods?" He stroked Tatsuya's cheek. "You mean, like mothers packing school lunches and fathers bonding with their kids over sports or magic? And the whole family attending festivals together and singing silly songs? Yeah. That's my life."

"So you're one of these over-emotional sods?" Tatsuya teased him. But then he found himself hugging Masaki tightly, and he wasn't sure why. A strange pressure ballooned in his chest, unfamiliar and uncomfortable. "You're the type they were writing about." It seemed so odd. It threatened to give him a headache. _I thought those were fairytales vaguely based on a long ago world that was destroyed by the war._ He supposed his life was like some action-thriller spy movie instead. _But those things don't even include families unless it's backstabbing family politics or kids being used for ransom._ He considered his family's behavior and his aunt's abduction. _Damn. Never mind. My life is a gory spy thriller._

Tatsuya found he couldn't even voice those observations. He just ended up holding Masaki to his chest. Then, suddenly, he said, "Be glad my sister has no interest in you. You would have been miserable as a member of our family."

Masaki rubbed Tatsuya's back, hugging Tatsuya closely. "I can see that," he whispered. "I'm amazed you could reach out to me after everything that happened to you." He snuggled Tatsuya rather like a cat would snuggle up.

For the second time that day, Masaki's words slammed into Tatsuya like a tsunami. He still couldn't figure out why it was happening or even what the emotion was—only that he could somehow feel Masaki's love. He also felt the resulting chemical reaction in his body. He drew back enough to create room, then cupped Masaki's cheek and kissed him. The initially chaste kiss lasted only moments, and then he slipped his tongue into Masaki's mouth.

Masaki kissed Tatsuya back passionately, cupping Tatsuya's face in his hands and caressing it as their tongues met. His fingers splayed upwards to comb through the locks of hair that framed Tatsuya's face.

Although Tatsuya's body had completely calmed down during their discussion, he found himself stirring again. The newness of the situation struck him squarely. Before, they had been sexually experimenting with each other, although it had been within the context of a serious relationship. Tatsuya had viewed their interactions as a learning process and as an aid to his overall understanding of what a romantic relationship entailed. Now, though, his arousal was tied to something more—to some feeling he couldn't name but still managed to have. As a result, the quality and flavor of their sexuality had changed in his eyes.

Realizing he had no doubt discovered something of great value, Tatsuya again cast aside his restraint. He caressed Masaki's tongue, a soft moan escaping him, and then pulled Masaki onto his lap to straddle him. He stroked his hands down Masaki's back and cupped his butt once more.

Masaki moaned, adjusting the angle of their kiss and stroking the back of Tatsuya's neck. He slipped his tongue into Tatsuya's mouth in return, leaning against him chest to chest.

Tatsuya had the fleeting thought that if they weren't careful, they wouldn't end up going on their hiking trip. But he didn't dwell on it. Instead, he enjoyed the feeling of Masaki's tongue caressing his from inside his own mouth. He caught it and sucked on it momentarily, and he found himself kneading Masaki where he cupped him. _I want you_ , he realized with bald shock. _It's not lust. It's not even a mere chemical reaction. It's . . . something more complex. But I can detect my own need._

Masaki gasped, breaking the kiss. "Tatsuya," he whispered, and his voice was as charged with emotion as Tatsuya felt. He stroked Tatsuya's hair. "It's all going to be all right. I promise. I'll see this through with you. Somehow, we'll make it work. I won't abandon you." His hand trailed down to cup Tatsuya's cheek. His blue-green eyes blazed. "I'm not leaving you to them."

Tatsuya got the distinct impression that he had been adopted as Masaki's personal cause. He found it didn't bother him; he recognized that Masaki was doing so out of love, not pity. "I believe you," he murmured, reaching up to stroke Masaki's cheek in return.

The pizza was doomed to grow cold.


	11. Imbalance and Balance

_**A/N:** Work got insanely busy again, but I have a vacation coming up. I hope to post chapter 12 soon!_

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

 **Imbalance and Balance**

Despite Tatsuya's concerns, he and Masaki did manage to take their hiking trip. In fact, after a lunch of warmed-over pizza, they had an excellent time on their outdoor adventure.

Three days later found Tatsuya in what he was beginning to see as his new safety zone: Dr. Manoru's office.

"I have a problem," he announced without preamble.

"And that is?" Dr. Manoru prompted.

"I can understand that sex is a bonding activity when two people are in love," Tatsuya said. "I don't feel love—or, at least, I don't think I do—but I am quite serious about my relationship with both Masaki and Miyuki. However, the one my body seems willing and interested in bonding to is Masaki. More than a chemical reaction or an act of experimentation, sexual activity with Masaki became a type of . . . emotional . . . expression this weekend." He still had difficulty believing he'd made it this far in his development.

Dr. Manoru smiled. "That's wonderful, and no doubt you are elated with your progress." She sat back in her chair a little more. "You would also be justified in being worried, taken off guard, and frightened. This is all new territory for you. When you came to me, you believed you were incapable of feeling as other people do. You had shut off your emotions to protect yourself. Now you are opening yourself up again. That is a risk; I believe that is why you view this development as a problem."

Tatsuya's gaze slid sideways to the fern in the corner. He had found it was his focal point when an answer was difficult. "I would like to protest and say no. But it is true that I am hyperaware of my new vulnerability. When I can keep people several degrees apart from me and merely engaged in solving a problem with me then I don't feel threatened." He sighed. "However, it is also a problem because my interest has landed squarely on Masaki. The man. Miyuki is in love with me and has been for years now. She's also my fiancé. I have promised her to do my best to see her as a woman and not a sister. And her reason for tolerating my relationship with Masaki is because it is supposedly helping me connect with her. But when I kiss her, I find myself still in the experimental stage, trying to figure out what will give her pleasure so I can do my duty once I am a husband."

"Miyuki's requests of you are normal, especially for a romantic partner who anticipates you as her husband." Dr. Manoru paused. "However, it is equally normal of you to be responding more constructively to Masaki. My understanding of him, based on your descriptions, makes it sound as though he is not pressuring you to be more than you are—or more than you want to be—in any given moment. In short, Masaki is letting you go at your own pace. It helps keep you more relaxed and curious rather than feeling pressured."

Tatsuya felt himself cringe. "If she thought she were pressuring me in any way, Miyuki would be horrified." He sighed. "I do feel warm when she hugs me. And it's not like I don't notice women. I've never lusted after one, but I certainly can distinguish who I find to be attractive or not." He paused as he realized his cultural indoctrination about lust and perversion was still exerting influence on him. "I have accepted that Miyuki is not disgusting for loving me and that neither is Masaki. I have allowed myself space to enter into these taboo relationships. But since I didn't expect to feel love or establish an emotional connection during sex, I suppose I still feel lost."

Dr. Manoru nodded. "This would particularly be the case, since your engagement to Miyuki is her idea, and your relationship with Masaki is yours."

"Actually, my engagement to Miyuki is our aunt's idea," Tatsuya said. "But Miyuki wishes for it as well, and it is true that I tend to give her want she wants." His brow furrowed. "However, it is also true that our culture believes a good husband attends to his wife's wishes and desires. My behavior toward Miyuki and my unusual level of physical affection have gotten me called a siscon several times. Perhaps my inclinations, while not driven by any conscious emotions, will still serve me once I'm married."

"Yet something about your relationship with Miyuki does make you uncomfortable, perhaps not consciously, since you have an easier time bonding with Masaki," Dr. Manoru said, "and you have retreated into distancing language describing your hope that your current level of affection towards Miyuki will be enough once you are married to her. I also find it interesting the way you have framed the idea of Miyuki's feelings towards Masaki. You seem to have defined tolerance as avoiding punishment for something someone doesn't want you to do, as a result of your cleverness in being able to come up with a justification."

Tatsuya cringed again. Dr. Manoru had caught him squarely, but he hadn't realized there was a problem. "I cannot deny your observations. Miyuki does hold the power to restrain my magic, although I have mostly figured out how to escape the binding on my own. I have also learned how to restrain her magic in an emergency. But the basis of our relationship is troubling. I have learned that Miyuki was created on purpose to be my wife because I was born 'broken.' But she also exists to bind my magic. I don't count as a magician in my family's eyes since I was 'born specialized.'" An odd, nearly icy sensation pierced his sternum, and he frowned. "While Miyuki had treated me equitably since I saved her life—and in fact refers to me with utter deference, insisting on addressing me with – _sama_ —the foundation we began with was—"

And suddenly he found he didn't want to say it. More than simply cutting himself off, he felt himself freeze and just stare at Dr. Manoru.

"Flawed," Dr. Manoru said softly. Her eyes shone with empathy. "It was one of servant and master, not of love. That foundation complicated by the abusive household in which you were both raised. Furthermore, inequitably. Miyuki was praised and showered with affection. You were not. Miyuki was treated as natural. You were not. Miyuki was given external accolades for her magic, her beauty, and her right to exist. You were not."

"Yes, Miyuki really does love me," Tatsuya snapped. A burning sensation filtered through his chest and then faded away. He inhaled deeply, and realizing he was not ready to analyze this topic further, changed its trajectory. "Like Miyuki, Masaki comes from a home where he was given external accolades for his magic, his beauty, and his right to exist. And yet he has decided to champion me and my 'cause,' if you will. Masaki's love for me seems to motivate him to want to address the injustices in my life. I admit it is surprising he can even begin to comprehend me. As far as I can tell, all we share in common other than being born into wealthy families is experience on the battlefield. When he was thirteen, he fought in the Sado Island invasion."

Dr. Manoru looked thoughtful. "That is a unique experience to share in common. You both were child soldiers? Perhaps the only person who could access one of the integral pieces of your past and help you contextualize it is another survivor."

"Survivor?" Tatsuya had to admit to himself that Dr. Manoru had gotten him lost again. She had that ability. "I fought to protect my sister's life. I would say my sister is the war—well, battle—survivor, not I. She nearly died."

Dr. Manoru shook her head, and her expression was firm. "All child soldiers the world over are traumatized by their experiences. Full grown men and women are traumatized by military service. However, the effects on children are especially profound. Post Traumatic Stress is inevitable. Sometimes—perhaps many times—that turns into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A child's brain is still developing. The capacity for truly gray, complex thinking does not start developing until the age of about twenty-five. You and Masaki were both far too young to fully process what happened to you and all the deaths you were responsible for."

"Actually, I chose to—" Tatsuya stopped as the weight of Dr. Manoru's words dropped on his head. "Wait. You told me during my second session that I have PTSD from the surgery and from my enslavement by my family. But now you're saying that Masaki might have it as well because he was deployed as a child solider during the invasion." His brain whisked forward, the analysis launching immediately. "He was given the nickname 'The Crimson Prince' because by the end of the day, he was covered in the blood of his enemies. His family's top spell is Rupture, which explodes a human being from the inside-out." Dr. Manoru had Masaki's exact identity now, but Tatsuya knew she was bound to silence. "And you're saying his show of pride in his magical abilities and his defense of his nation might be a mask over his PTSD?"

Dr. Manoru smiled wryly. "Gratitude towards the armed forces, and the soldiers who personally protected them, is a common coping mechanism for civilian survivors. Soldiers tend to cope by taking pride in their abilities and in the justice of their patriotism in an effort to reassure themselves they can keep themselves safe from danger. You have done the same thing by declaring it was only ever Miyuki, and not you, who was in danger."

 _It was only Miyuki,_ Tatsuya thought, and yet the only reason Miyuki had nearly been killed in the first place had been the same reason they had all been in danger. Then the weight of Dr. Manoru's words sank through his head, down his neck, into his chest, and settled in his stomach. "Masaki said last weekend that compared to me he's a spoiled rich brat. He thinks his family is as close to perfect as humans can be, and certainly they sound wonderful. He doesn't see his own pain or trauma at all. In this way, he's as emotionally blind as I am."

"Ah." Dr. Manoru looked sad. "I suggest that deep down, that is one reason why he sought you out; you are able to see past that bright façade into the darkness Masaki struggles to contain. If you think it would help you bond with Masaki, why don't you try asking him about his experiences? You can do so indirectly by asking if he ever has nightmares. Intense nightmares are a common symptom of PTSD."

"The 'darkness,'" Tatsuya echoed, and in that moment, he saw the gap between Masaki and himself closing. He had wondered what Masaki saw in him, and he hadn't imagined he had anything of particular personal interest to give Masaki. Now he saw the possibility that they did exist in the same metaphorical world. "I will ask."

* * *

Again two weeks passed before Tatsuya and Masaki went on another date. Tatsuya spent part of that time analyzing the shipment of parts that the Ichijou intel network had intercepted, but the puzzle still wasn't fitting together. Tatsuya maintained the theory that Petrov meant to recreate Kichijouji's machine, and the parts didn't disprove the theory. Tatsuya would revise his hypothesis if he needed to, but until then, he felt safer assuming that Petrov meant to corrupt the machine and use it in a terrorist act.

Petrov himself stayed hidden and silent back in the New Soviet Union.

When Tatsuya's weekend date with Masaki rolled around, they decided to take it easy this time. They made a reservation at an onsen near Kyoto—one they'd hiked past during their trip up Mt. Hiei.

As usual, Masaki beat Tatsuya to the hotel. By the time Tatsuya arrived, Masaki had ordered them room service—a spread of sushi.

Tatsuya stepped in the door, saw the plates, and smiled at Masaki. Then he pulled Masaki into a hug.

Masaki hugged Tatsuya back tightly. When they parted, Masaki seemed pleasantly surprised. "That was the nicest greeting yet." He stroked Tatsuya's cheek, then pressed a gentle kiss to Tatsuya's lips. "You look like you're all right. But how do you feel?" He grimaced. "Or is that too awkward of a question?"

Tatsuya chuckled. "Not too awkward, no. Perhaps awkward in general since I'm still working with my brain and my body to figure this out. But not _too_ awkward." He considered the question. "I feel glad to see you." He reached up and caressed Masaki's cheek in return. "I look forward to our dates." He leaned in and kissed Masaki, mouthing his lips gently. He lamented that Dr. Manoru was right; he was more comfortable with Masaki.

Masaki melted into the kiss, stroking Tatsuya's hair as he mouthed Tatsuya's lips as well. His other hand rested on Tatsuya's waist. When the kiss ended, he looked regretful, but he nodded towards the sushi. "We better eat, yeah?" He grinned. "Before we get distracted. There's not much we could do to save sushi left sitting out a while."

Tatsuya smiled. "We can't warm it up like pizza, no."

They relocated to the kotatsu table, sitting across from each other and selecting their favorites. Tatsuya had a preference for shrimp and octopus, and he also preferred sashimi over maki. However, for the most part, one couldn't go wrong with sushi in his opinion.

Masaki liked salmon and tuna maki the best, and he also seemed to prefer the egg nigiri. For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Then Masaki said, after taking a sip of tea, "I look forward to getting together, too." His expression was soft. "You're special, and not because you're so talented or anything like that. It's because underneath it all, I think you're a sweet guy. You've just been hurt. And I want to clear one thing up, because it's been worrying me that you might be thinking it now that I know what your home life is like. You're not less important to me than Jouji."

Upon hearing those words, Tatsuya felt a strange pang that he hadn't expected. "You have known Kichijouji far longer than you have me. If would not have hurt me if you still considered him more important. But I can see why you'd be concerned." He set down his chopsticks. "You are not less important than Miyuki, either." Then he huffed with amusement. "Sweet? Me? I don't think even Miyuki would say that. If there is a sweet one here, it is you."

Masaki chuckled. "There are different kinds of sweetness. Yours is the bittersweet kind, that's all. You've been tempered by a lot of things beyond your control." He set down his own chopsticks and took Tatsuya's hand, squeezing it. "That's all in the past. I'm going to make sure of it. You don't have to be alone anymore."

 _You're definitely the sweet one._ Tatsuya squeezed Masaki's hand. Then he launched his plan. "You will not have to be alone, either. You know already that I fought in Okinawa when it was invaded, just like everyone is aware you fought on Sado Island. You carry with you 'the darkness'—the shadows that plague a child who has fought in a battle zone. You are not alone in that."

Masaki's eyes widened in shock for a split second. Then he held Tatsuya's hand tightly, practically in a death grip. He stared down at their joined hands. "Wow. I never thought you would talk about it. Ever." He snorted faintly and glanced up at Tatsuya with a small smile. "I should have known better. If it's taboo, you're bound to get into it somehow. You've always been bold like that. Still . . ." He shook his head. "I never expected you would bring it up. My father says we all have 'shadows' and it's better not to dwell on them." He frowned, and his gaze dropped again. "Actually, my father says to focus on the good instead. I try, but . . ."

 _Ten points go to Dr. Manoru,_ Tatsuya thought. "My therapist says I have PTSD from my surgery and Complex PTSD from the treatment I received from my family. She also says I may have experienced PTS or even developed PTSD from the battle at Okinawa. I resisted her initially, but I didn't understand that what I was experiencing wasn't normal. I'll be thinking about a CAD design, and suddenly the image of my mother's bodyguard dying will invade my mind. Or sometimes I'll have dreams about the entire battle. I'll dream Miyuki was killed after all. I'll dream that it was Miyuki who died to protect me while I was fighting. Because these images and dreams were not accompanied with overwhelming emotions, I thought little of it. But in truth, my brain is communicating with me about the trauma." He scooted around the table and sat by Masaki. "But for one like you, who can still feel emotions normally, such nightmares or 'shadows' must be worse."

Masaki had paled at the descriptions of Tatsuya's nightmares. Then, at Tatsuya's overture, he pulled Tatsuya close and wrapped an arm around Tatsuya's waist. He stared at the wall. "Yeah," he whispered. "I don't even tell Jouji all of it. I don't want him to worry. But seeing – " His whole body tensed, and he took a deep breath. "Like, I'll dream I've made a mistake and it's my dad who gets exploded instead. Or Ruri or Akane or Mom. Or – " He shut his eyes briefly. "Sometimes, the spell targets Jouji instead. I'm not aiming for him, but it happens anyway. Sometimes I'm at a weird funeral, and the coffins never stop coming. They just don't. The entire dream is me standing there while pallbearers carry coffins past me like rush hour traffic, end to end to end. All I do is stand there in a suit, and then I wake up knowing it's all the people I've killed."

"Tell Kichijouji," Tatsuya said. "And tell me. If it helps." He wrapped his arms around Masaki. "Dr. Manoru says that research shows child soldiers often develop PTSD. I looked into the research myself. There's over a hundred years of it. If I were capable of being appalled, I would be. But I am far more concerned for you than myself. The damage from my brain surgery dulled my trauma, although apparently the effect won't last forever. However, underneath your warrior's zeal, you are a kind soul. Don't let our cultural attitudes about men and magicians strip your claim to humanity from you. You're hurting. And if I may be so bold, let me say you need a therapist, too. And I don't just mean the ones at school. Their jobs are to reduce our anxiety or depression so we can keep casting spells. They're not actually paid to heal us."

Masaki laughed, but his voice cracked. "This is so ironic." He wrapped both arms around Tatsuya in return. "One secret reason I was so angry that I lost the Monolith Code to you was because that's when the dreams started. In the hospital, I thought I was just having a reaction to the medication. My ear hurt, and I had a wicked migraine. They shot me up with some pretty powerful stuff. The dreams came, but then they didn't stop. They haven't stopped since. Because for a few seconds there . . . " He paused. "I was sure I'd killed you. That's why I froze. You—an innocent student. And so it all came flooding out. I killed a lot of people in the invasion; I exploded them into blood spatters and pulp. And while I understand the necessity of protecting Japan, I secretly think to myself, 'I'm supposed to feel proud of that?'"

Tatsuya decided right then and there that he would never tell Masaki had he _had_ nearly killed him. Masaki was in enough pain already, and Tatsuya had known all along that it had been an accident. At the time, Tatsuya had decided he'd taken Masaki off guard by rushing him so quickly, and Masaki had fired from instinct. Now Tatsuya knew better. He had startled Masaki—as in triggered Masaki's startle reflex that he'd developed from his PTSD. "Protecting Japan from invasion or not, you were a seventh grader shoved onto a real battlefield. I never considered it before, but we were too young. These things we carry . . . I have come to see that we shouldn't have to."

Masaki tightened his embrace of Tatsuya. "No. We shouldn't." His voice dropped to a whisper. "I was nervous when we left—packing a CAD for the first time, knowing it wasn't for practice—but I wanted to help protect my country. I wasn't even close to accurately imagining what a human body looks like when it explodes. It's more than blood and bone fragments. I could see bile, chunks of lungs, and several feet of still-intact intestines. Shit would splatter on the pavement. Half a brain. I'd see one remaining eye or the jawbone." His voice was tight. He'd resumed staring at the wall. "They say I was covered in blood. I was _drenched_ in other people's blood. But also I was covered in their bile and brains. I was picking tiny bone slivers out of my boot laces. There was pulp packed in the treads of my boot soles. They had to hose me off with water before I could change clothes and shower. Then I had to be tested for blood-borne diseases."

Not daring to speak, Tatsuya simply began rubbing Masaki's back. He wasn't surprised to hear it given his own battlefield experiences, but his own spells were generally far less messy.

"It was awful, but that's my family's spell. That's how I can eliminate the enemy. There wasn't any other way for me to kill." Masaki's smirk was bitter. "Of course, everyone was so proud of me. I got so much praise. So many accolades. I was told what a great magician I already was and how great I would turn out to be. I was told I was a brave boy who would become a great man. And I learned to thank people for their kind words. I learned to focus on the lives we'd saved, like Jouji's. I told myself I really should be proud."

"Be proud you saved Jouji's life." Tatsuya cupped Masaki's face in his hands and met his gaze. "But allow yourself to be human, too. Masaki, I will give you space to grieve. I will give you space to set down the demands made upon us as men. I will give you space to hate being used as a human weapon just because you can cast magic. I will give you space to cry or yell or break things. Whatever it takes to vent the pain. You don't have to smile and pretend like you're simply proud and patriotic. You don't have to see yourself as a commodity."

Masaki stared at him, eyes wide. Then he kissed him, mouthing Tatsuya's lips with a quiet intensity. He clung to the front of Tatsuya's shirt with one hand.

Tatsuya's instincts burned, and he let them take over momentarily. He wrapped his arms around Masaki again and lowered him to the tatami floor, laying over him like a human shield. He only felt arousal once Masaki was safely under him. Then he mouthed Masaki's lips as well. _Stay right there. I'm good at protecting people._

Masaki breathed raggedly as they continued kissing, and he cupped Tatsuya's shoulder blades, opening his legs so that Tatsuya's hips dropped down between them. The kiss deepened until Masaki's tongue was slipping into Tatsuya's mouth. He sighed out a moan.

Tatsuya felt a shiver of arousal race through his hips from the way Masaki repositioned them. He was still concerned about Masaki's emotional state, but he trusted Masaki to not do anything uncomfortable to himself. Tatsuya caressed Masaki's tongue, still holding him tightly. _You have accepted my protection . . ._ Tatsuya couldn't deny that it added to his arousal.

Gently, Masaki ended the kiss. "I love you." With that, he reengaged the kiss, stroking Tatsuya's hair. Tatsuya could feel Masaki hardening underneath him. Masaki's body was growing warmer against his, and his normal color had returned.

Tatsuya felt relieved that Masaki had kissed him, thereby sparing him the painful choice about how to handle those three little words. He was giving Masaki everything he could, and he hoped it would be good enough. Certainly his level of investment was at its maximum peak. In that moment, he would do anything for Masaki that made Masaki feel loved and safe. He slipped one hand up under Masaki's shirt and caressed his chest.

Masaki gasped and lightly nibbled Tatsuya's lower lip. He arched up against Tatsuya with a fresh moan. Then he wrapped his legs around Tatsuya's, hooking them behind Tatsuya's knees, and cupped the back of Tatsuya's neck.

Tatsuya gazed down at Masaki's beautiful, flushed face and felt himself begin to stir. He caressed up to one of Masaki's nipples and stroked it. "I will do what you need," he whispered, tracing over the hardened nipple. "You want to feel better—pleasured, even—and I'm willing to assist." He leaned down and nuzzled Masaki's neck, then kissed him there.

Masaki threw his head back with a deep moan. When he arched against Tatsuya again, Tatsuya could feel him throbbing. "Yes. Distract me. I just – I just want – " Instead of finishing the sentence, he moaned again.

Tatsuya kissed down Masaki's neck. When he reached his shirt, Tatsuya pulled the material upward, revealing Masaki's chest. "I am trying to ask if you have a request. Otherwise . . ." He leaned down and lapped over Masaki's nipple, then sucked on it. The feeling of Masaki's erection throbbing against his body made him stir harder.

Masaki gasped sharply. Tatsuya felt a shudder go down Masaki's body. Although he clutched at Tatsuya's shoulders, massaging, Masaki didn't say anything. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his legs around Tatsuya's more tightly.

 _So it will feel best if I take control,_ Tatsuya deduced. He switched to Masaki's other nipple, lapping over it and then sucking on it. As he did, he reached down between them and unbuttoned and unzipped Masaki's pants. Then he slipped his hand down inside Masaki's boxers and palmed his erection. The skin was hot and damp against his hand.

Masaki let out a small burst of a moan, shuddering again. His nipples hardened further, and his erection throbbed in Tatsuya's hand. "Y-Yes," he choked out, as if it took all of the strength in his being to speak.

That was all the encouragement Tatsuya needed. He sat up and worked Masaki's pants and underwear down, just clearing his hips. Then he leaned forward, gently grasping Masaki's wrists and pulling his arms over his head. He pressed Masaki's wrists to the floor. "Don't move," he whispered. Then he released Masaki's wrists and caressed down his arms, over his chest, and over his abdomen. The sight of Masaki's flushed body stretched out was gorgeous. Tatsuya swallowed a sigh at the beauty and ran both hands down to Masaki's groin. He cupped Masaki's balls with one hand and stroked over his erection with the other.

Masaki panted hard and did as Tatsuya asked, keeping mostly still. However, he twitched and squirmed faintly underneath Tatsuya's hands, moaning at Tatsuya's touches. When Tatsuya's hands reached his groin, his hips twitched upwards, his moans louder.

"Yes," Tatsuya found himself whispering. He stroked Masaki until a clear bead welled up on his tip, and then he ran his thumb over it. When Masaki cried out again, Tatsuya knew what he wanted to do. He scooted backward and pulled Masaki's pants and boxers off. Then he lay between his legs, running his arms under Masaki's hips and capturing them. With careful aim, he caught Masaki in his mouth and sucked on the tip. A faint sweetness registered on his tongue.

Masaki twitched and whimpered in pleasure. His legs relaxed open farther. "T-Tatsuya." The name was a moan.

Tatsuya released him just long enough to speak. "Yes," he whispered again. " _Yes_. _"_ He slipped Masaki back into his mouth, sucking on him. And then he reversed the usual process, using his arms to pump Masaki's hips upwards and holding his head still. Masaki's length slid over his tongue, and he caressed his underside as it did. _Be mine,_ he thought with fierce protectiveness.

Masaki cried out, and his body went limp, hands relaxing beside his shoulders. He let Tatsuya move his hips, moaning. His entire body flushed. Masaki's skin was hot against Tatsuya's hands. Slightly sweet wetness seeped into Tatsuya's mouth, but Masaki didn't come.

 _Good._ Tatsuya swallowed and continued rocking Masaki's hips, bringing him up into his mouth repeatedly. _Let me make love to you. Let me show you what I cannot say. Let me protect you. I will do all I can._ He pumped Masaki's hips slowly, not wanting to rush the experience for his boyfriend. He gazed up the length of Masaki's torso, admiring Masaki's flushed skin, the planes of his muscles, the way his chest heaved with gasps. The sight washed over him with heat, leaving him fully hard and leaking.

Masaki breathed deeply, and long moans escaped him. His expression eased into bliss, his brow slightly furrowed and his lips parted. He seemed to glow from the inside out. "Tatsuya . . . that feels so good," he whispered almost too faintly to be heard.

Tatsuya relaxed deep inside as he realized Masaki had to know he was being made love to. _You can feel it, can't you? You know._ "Mn." He pumped Masaki's hips in measured strokes and sucked a bit more firmly. He could feel Masaki throbbing in his mouth. His own hips shifted against the floor as he began to throb as well.

Masaki moaned in response, and his breaths became calm and deeper. Little tremors ran through his hips. One hand drifted down to gently stroke the top of Tatsuya's head. "That's . . . yes." He filtered his fingers through Tatsuya's hair. Moaning again, he repeated, "Yes."

Tatsuya felt certain he had nonverbally communicated what he needed Masaki to understand. Reassured, he rocked Masaki's hips a fraction faster. _I will protect you. You said I will not be alone; I will assure you won't be._ He began to caress his tongue over Masaki's tip with every other pass.

Masaki whimpered and trembled. His fingers traced Tatsuya's ear. "Oh, god." He moaned deeply. "Oh, god, oh, god." He gasped and squirmed for a moment before he lay still again. His hands flexed. "You know that's going to – "

"Mn," Tatsuya acknowledged, catching part of the swell of Masaki's pleasure. He found himself pumping Masaki's hips a fraction faster still and moaning as he teased Masaki's tip. _Yes. I want you._

Masaki's moans reached a fevered pitch, and then his hips jerked. "I'm going – " He clutched one hand to his chest. "It's – "

Tatsuya understood and released Masaki, pulling away.

Masaki came, arching off the floor. He made a thorough mess of himself in the process. His face shone with sweat, his hair was mussed, and he'd covered his own stomach. Still, he smiled. Then he collapsed and rested, his chest rising and falling with slow, heavy breaths.

Tatsuya felt rewarded by this outcome. He carefully released Masaki's hips. "Let me get a hand towel." He slipped into the bathroom and returned to clean Masaki up. Once he discarded the towel, he lay by Masaki and ran an arm around his waist. "There." He took in Masaki's smile. "Sexy," he said, just as he had the first time. It felt like a ridiculous understatement.

Masaki chuckled. " _You_ are sexy." He rolled onto his side to face Tatsuya and tuck their bodies together. He kissed Tatsuya's lips with a contented sigh and then rested his head. His arm tightened around Tatsuya's waist.

"I'm going to protect you," Tatsuya said, deciding it was a proper response to Masaki's earlier love declaration. However, Tatsuya knew what that would likely get him, especially with Masaki's training, so he cut off any potential protests. "I know you're a man. You don't have to convince me that you can protect yourself; I know that you can. I'm not out to turn you into 'the woman' in our relationship. I already have a woman. She's already set to become my wife. You're a man, and that's how I like it. If I wanted another woman, I'd simply go find another woman. I've had offers, trust me. But I want _you_ , and even though you're a man, I'm going to protect you, anyway."

Masaki raised his head. He looked at Tatsuya with an expression of astonishment. Then his eyes softened, and he brushed his hand through Tatsuya's hair, smoothing the locks away from Tatsuya's forehead. "I know I'm not 'the woman.' That's just a stereotype that straight people put on us because it fits the binary they've been taught. Real relationships between gay people don't work that way. I'm just worried about your overextending yourself. Let's protect each other. Equally."

Tatsuya pressed a kiss to Masaki's lips. "Fair enough. We can protect each other. Since it's you, I won't resist having someone to protect me for a change." It was certainly a novel idea, and up until that moment Tatsuya had not been aware just how much he wanted it. What had once been a vague thought was now a concrete offer, and it was an offer by a man Tatsuya knew could back up the words with magical might and muscle.

Even after he married Miyuki, Tatsuya knew he could never give up Masaki.


	12. Valentine's Day

_**A/N:**_ _You could probably tell by my chapter 5, if you read the light novel, that I've been slowly bleeding anime Tatsuya and LN Tatsuya together. By this point, I'm operating almost entirely with LN Tatsuya, who even from page 1 has more flexibility and span that anime Tatsuya does. Several of the events I refer to in this chapter are from the LN, including the fact Tatsuya really did "notice" Miyuki in her underwear. In fact, Tatsuya's opinion of his emotional capacity and the narrator's revelations about his capacity don't match. In many ways, Sato is a very nuanced and intelligent writer—and not just in his magical world-building._

 _Also, thank you to my reviewers!_

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

 **Valentine's Day**

All during their relaxing weekend at the hot springs, Tatsuya was preoccupied with the way Masaki had shared his experiences. No matter how many times Masaki illustrated trust in him, Tatsuya still remained touched by it. Also, Masaki seemed more relaxed the rest of the weekend. Venting had apparently done him some good.

Once Tatsuya returned home, he continued to reflect on the details of Masaki's experience. Like most nations, Japan was appealing to its citizens' patriotism and national pride in addition to their fear that World War IV would break out. It was an arms race: Which nation could produce both the best magicians and the most strategic class magicians? Someone like Masaki was under a lot of pressure to maximize potential, be the best, and never make a mistake.

In short, Masaki didn't have a dream life anymore than Tatsuya did. The exact flavor of the problems was different, but neither of them had a normal life. From Tatsuya's point of view, this helped solidify things they shared in common. All Tatsuya really wanted was a normal life.

Tatsuya was deep in these thoughts and not really seeing his computer screen when Miyuki entered the room carrying two mugs of coffee. Tatsuya could tell from the aroma that it was "real" coffee. Miyuki had ground fresh beans and used an old fashioned coffee maker with a paper filter. Replicated coffee tended to have a slightly burnt aroma and even more burnt taste.

"Thank you," Tatsuya murmured as he accepted the mug. As usual, the coffee was black, which was the way he liked it. He took a careful sip, not wanting to burn himself.

Miyuki smiled. "I enjoy making it." She giggled. "I enjoy drinking it even more."

Tatsuya returned the smile. "My sister the foodie," he teased lightly.

Miyuki's gaze fell to her mug.

"My fiancé," Tatsuya corrected.

Miyuki pepped back up. "Speaking of romantic things, Valentine's Day is next Monday."

Tatsuya internally cursed. He'd completely lost track of the date. Now he had less than a week to find Miyuki a present. Granted, if he held to tradition then he wouldn't be giving Miyuki a gift until White Day, but most people his age had stopped using White Day. Most boys and girls both used Valentine's Day to exchange gifts, just like in the USNA. "Right. Yes. Do you have a request, such as a particular restaurant where you'd like to eat? Or something specific to do after eating?"

"Surprise me." Miyuki sat on the corner of Tatsuya's desk. "I'd like to celebrate on Saturday instead of Monday so we can relax and not worry about homework."

"Of course." Tatsuya was already busy mentally sorting through the best restaurants. A reservation would be needed. He also decided to be traditional and get Miyuki a dozen red roses and chocolates. The sheer normalcy of the romantic gift was likely to charm her: A normal gift for an abnormal couple.

Then it struck Tatsuya that Masaki might want to do something with him, too. And, like Tatsuya, Masaki would need to balance his time so that he and Kichijouji got their date. _I better contact him tonight._

Miyuki stared into her mug again. "Tatsuya- _sama_ . . . will you celebrate Valentine's Day with Ichijou- _san_ , too?"

Tatsuya's stomach clenched. He hadn't expected the sensation, and it took him off-guard. "Perhaps. I haven't talked to him about it."

Miyuki tilted her mug back and forth, swirling the coffee around. "I haven't asked any questions. Your time with Ichijou- _san_ is private, after all, and you said in the beginning that you simply wanted to experiment with kissing." She paused, her brow furrowing. "It does seem to have helped. We've kissed quite a bit since then and not just on the lips." A blush stained her cheeks, but her frown didn't abate. "But since I am your fiancé, I think it's time to have a talk. You've been spending time with Ichijou- _san_ for three months now. Just how serious is your relationship with him?"

Tatsuya tensed further, his shoulders bunching up. "You know me well enough to know I wouldn't engage in meaningless and empty sexual behavior. And Masaki has slowly turned into a good friend." He felt the unpleasant tingling of fear. He hadn't wanted to have this conversation with Miyuki so soon. He was convinced she would ask him to choose between Masaki and her. "My feelings for him are serious."

Ice seeped out of Miyuki's hand and frosted her mug. "Serious," she echoed flatly. Tears welled up in her eyes. "How serious? Do you love him?"

"I'm not sure I'm recovered enough to feel the emotion of love," Tatsuya said, well aware he was dodging more than anything. "He's important to me. He's not more important than you, however."

Miyuki bit her lip. The mug emitted popping sounds as her coffee froze solid. "But he's a _man_. I realize my love for you is unusual and taboo, but I am a woman. Can you really fall in love with a man?"

Tatsuya set down his mug. His palm had begun to sweat. "Miyuki . . . Masaki and I share different things than you and I do, such as being child soldiers. We share different interests like motorcycles. You noted in the beginning that there's actually no overlap between Masaki and you. You're right. There's not."

Tears escaped Miyuki's eyes and tracked down her cheeks. "But if I lose your love to a man . . . _any_ man . . ."

"Can't I learn to love you both?" Tatsuya stood and gently took Miyuki's mug, setting it on his desk. "Is it so terrible to love more than one person?" He laid his hands on her shoulders. "I've researched ethical polyamory extensively. It's more common than anyone would guess simply because almost all the world cultures have normalized monogamy. But in the grand scale of all human history, monogamy is a recent concept. Meanwhile, plenty of modern people have figured out how to balance more than one relationship, including being married and still dating someone else."

Miyuki yanked away from him. "But that's what our father did! He loved another woman, but he married our mother anyway. He dated that other woman the whole time he was married to Mother! And as soon as Mother died, he went and married her."

Tatsuya felt like Miyuki's ice was crystallizing inside his muscles. His lips felt numb from stress. That had never happened to him before. "But our father never loved our mother in the first place. I'm sure of it." He reached up and rubbed his forehead; he felt a headache coming on. "I don't intend to marry you without loving you. I won't be married to you but love someone else. I'm not out to have an affair because I don't love my wife. What I would ask for is the right to love you both and spend time with you both. And it's not like Masaki won't eventually have his own wife to love and spend time with."

"I will never love anyone but you!"

"And that's your right," Tatsuya said gently. "You are the owner of your own emotions. They are yours to do with what you please."

Miyuki sighed explosively. "If it were another woman, I would never forgive you." She jerked back as though spooked, her shoulders hunching inward. "Would you ever ask me to accept another woman?"

Tatsuya held up both hands. "No!" He forced his voice to be calm. "No. Never. I know you could never accept such a thing, and I have no interest in it. I'll be maximizing my time and energy just to balance two relationships. More would be a nightmare. I'm too much of an introvert, and I love my research too much."

Miyuki crossed her arms over her stomach. "I don't know that I can accept this, Tatsuya- _sama_. I agreed to let you explore kissing with Ichijou- _san_ because you felt that it would help you unthaw your sexuality and it made you happy. But I _never_ imagined you would become serious boyfriends, much less that you would want to keep him after we marry." She hunched forward slightly as though her stomach hurt. "I want you to be happy. But to have to share you . . ."

With utter horror, Tatsuya realized she was going to make him choose. A bizarre prickling sensation exploded through his body, making his heart race. Fear shot through him—a fear intense enough to rival the moment he thought Miyuki would die in Okinawa. Then he abruptly tasted metal. He found he could barely breathe. _No, don't do it. Miyuki, please. Don't ask me to choose. You know I have no choice but to choose you, and I don't want to lose Masaki. Please!_

Miyuki glanced up, her eyes widening with what seemed to be an equal amount of terror. "Oh, god. Have you two had sex? Did you actually—actually—" A look of horror cross her face, furrowing her brow and crumpling her features. "—do _It_?"

" _No!_ " The word exploded out of Tatsuya. He wanted to back away now, much like a spooked cat. He couldn't remember feeling this way since he was six years old, and he'd never felt repelled by Miyuki, even when she was a child and acted cruelly toward him.

Miyuki slumped, her arms dropping to her sides. "Oh thank god." She turned and trudged toward the door. She stopped in the doorway and didn't look back. "I'm tabling the discussion of whether you'll continue to date Ichijou- _san_. Go talk to your therapist first. But if you intend to take Ichijou- _san_ out on a Valentine's Day date, then don't take me. I'm your fiancé, and I shouldn't have to compete on Valentine's Day." She dragged herself out of the room without another word.

Tatsuya stared at the empty doorway, all his emotions dropping into a black hole. It was beyond numbness. It was beyond blankness.

He felt as though his entire soul had been swallowed by a void.

* * *

By the time Tatsuya reached Dr. Manoru's office three days later, he was as close to being a wreck as he was likely to ever get. He plopped into the usual chair—there were actually three to choose from—and stared dejectedly at the live fern in the corner. _Poor fern,_ he found himself thinking. _You're stuck inside away from the sun all the time._

The depressing and atypical nature of his thought told him that, for him, he was in dire straits.

"What is it like to be Tatsuya today?" Dr. Manoru asked sympathetically. "You seem to have arrived in an unusual state. I have noticed you prefer to look composed."

Tatsuya reached up and massaged his temples. "It's terrible to be Tatsuya today." His arms fell to his lap. "I lost track of time!" Having accessed a higher level of emotion, he purposely didn't attempt to regulate it. "I didn't realize three months had passed." He mentally mucked around. "I mean, I also didn't realize Valentine's was next Monday. I just don't—I don't think about these things. And I hadn't actually realized I'd been with Masaki for three months. It doesn't seem like that much time has passed. But it has. It has, and I made love to Masaki to comfort him last weekend. Um, orally, I mean. You were right about him and PTSD." He paused, realizing he wasn't making any sense yet.

Dr. Manoru nodded slowly, visibly sorting through Tatsuya's declarations. "You wish to celebrate Valentine's Day with Masaki. Also, you expressed empathy in a sexual manner, a first for you. Do you see this as a major step forward?"

Tatsuya flinched at Dr. Manoru's accurate interpretation. "Yes, I want to celebrate Valentine's with Masaki, not just Miyuki." He sighed and allowed himself to stop and consider Dr. Manoru's comment on the sexuality. "I admit I hadn't stopped to analyze myself. I was too busy analyzing Masaki. But now that you mention it, I suppose it is a major step forward. Sex as experimentation, sex as affection, and now sex as comfort . . . I've learned an important relationship skill."

He stood, which he never did, and went over to the plant. He ended up petting the leaves. "I'm admittedly quite agitated. Miyuki asked me about Valentine's, and we set up a date. But then she confronted me about Masaki, asking me if I were serious about him. When I said yes, she felt hurt. Threatened. It's understandable. But—" He turned to face Dr. Manoru, still holding a leaf. "She told me to not celebrate Valentine's with her if I meant to celebrate it with Masaki, too. She said that she, as my fiancé, did not want the competition."

"Do you think that is a fair boundary?" Dr. Manoru tilted her head. "Or do you think Miyuki is trespassing upon your relationship with Masaki?"

"I don't know!" Tatsuya amazed himself with his own reactivity. He turned back to the plant, petting it. It was brown in a few spots and looked dry. _Poor fern._ "I read articles about ethical polyamory. One lover is not supposed to be made to feel inferior or less important than the other. Each lover is supposed to feel he or she has an equal voice and equal place, and dates or time spent together are supposed to be arranged in the most sensible fashion for the three people's work schedules—or four or however many. Everyone is supposed to work together to make sure needs get met, and I don't just mean sexual needs."

Dr. Manoru nodded. "I'm impressed with your research. That is correct." She tilted her head. "I admit without revealing names that I have more than one polyamorous client. That way of life has always existed and will continue to exist in the face of more popular relationship systems. For some people, polyamory is the most genuine expression of self."

"I thought to myself that sharing a Valentine's date with Miyuki and then one with Masaki would only be fair." Tatsuya released the fern and just stared at it. "But I realized I had failed to communicate to Miyuki just how serious I have become about Masaki. I didn't keep her updated, and so when she finally solicited the conversation, my confession took her unawares. I think I brought the outcome upon myself for not being more open. And yet, even if that is so, I don't think I should punish Masaki by not going on a Valentine's date with him. I suppose I could use White Day instead, but I suspect that's not the point."

"No," Dr. Manoru said gently. "The argument is not over which day you choose to celebrate with Masaki on. The argument is about loving someone in addition to Miyuki." She sighed softly. "I am sorry this path isn't easier for you. In my understanding, many members of the Ten Master Clans have multiple lovers. In other words, polyamory is most common at the top. You and Miyuki were likely raised in a polyamorous household. Is this correct?"

Tatsuya sighed and returned to his chair, plopping down again. "Our mother did not. Our father continued dating his previous girlfriend all through his marriage to our mother and then married her once our mother died. Miyuki did not approve of this."

"Then this is likely the reason Miyuki does not approve of Masaki," Dr. Manoru said. "Someone's likes and dislikes are formed by their childhood, not present events. A pattern laid out before in the brain is what the brain 'likes' to go to. Subconsciously, Miyuki believes you love Masaki more. In other words, you fill follow the pattern of your father: You will keep Masaki throughout your marriage, and when she dies, you will marry Masaki. Set aside the fact that in this country marriage between two men or two women is not legal. Feelings are not logical."

Tatsuya nodded. Accepting that feelings were often illogical had been a tough haul for him, but he'd done it. "Even though the two situations are very different, I can still understand her fear. And I have my own fear: my fear she will make me choose. My concern isn't just about Valentine's. My concern is that in the end she'll ask me to choose her, the first person I ever loved in any kind of way, and abandon the man I—" He cut himself off, realizing what he'd been about to say.

Dr. Manoru waited. When Tatsuya did not finish, she suggested, "The man you love."

Tatsuya nodded slowly. The revelation hit him all at once. All of his bouncing back and forth—Was it or was it not love? Was this warm feeling an indication of love? Was this dedication an act of love?—all vanished. The truth stared him in the face.

He slumped back into his chair. "I didn't want to admit it to myself. It was dangerous." He stared at the window this time, although the blinds were closed and he couldn't look out. "Somehow I managed to fall in love with my own sister. I knew I doted on her. I knew I was overly affectionate. Shortly after high school began, I even noticed her in her underwear when I was programming her CAD for her. But I knew it was a big problem, so I kept racing into denial—denial that I was capable of feeling love at all, much less love for my sister. And, admittedly, I didn't feel any arousal at all until high school."

He paused. He could hear an old fashioned clock ticking. "Likewise, I didn't want to admit I could fall in love with a man. I was already in enough potential trouble as a siscon. But after Masaki made love to me, and then I made love to him . . ." He shook his head. "I was already there. I just didn't see it. I had an emotion, I just wasn't sure enough to assign it its name."

"Have you made it clear to Miyuki that you can love her and be attracted to her?" Dr. Manoru asked. "When we began our sessions, you declared uncertainty that you would ever be sexually attracted. Now I hear an increased clarity that you do feel sexual attraction."

Tatsuya shook his head. "After she declared that I had to choose who I wanted to celebrate Valentine's Day with, the conversation was over. We haven't talked about anything other than food since." He reached up and picked at his lower lip. A tiny piece of dry skin was loose. It distracted him. "In the end, I might have been more afraid of admitting my sexual attraction to my sister than my attraction to an unrelated man. This history of men and sex in Japan alone is ancient and detailed, not counting that of China, Greece, Rome, and others. The samurai and the Buddhist monks were especially well known for it. In the end, perhaps I just . . ." He shrugged one shoulder. "I first went to the place that seemed the least warped."

"Then, perhaps, you would like to draw the boundaries that would make you comfortable," Dr. Manoru suggested. "Boundaries that confine your behavior to that of proper siblings or distancing yourself from Miyuki if she cannot respect those boundaries. How does the thought of that possibility make you feel? Do you feel it is more in line with your identity to have a relationship with Masaki instead of Miyuki?"

Tatsuya shook his head. "No. And the thought leaves me cold inside. It's like I've been sucked into space." He sighed. "I love them _both_. I don't want to choose. I don't want to even consider choosing. The mere thought makes every muscle in my body tense up." He ended up staring at his lap. He didn't like the truth bubbling to the surface, and yet there it was. "I don't think I'm worthy of having two people to love me. Or even one. Aren't I supposed to be unwanted and unloved? According to my aunt, my mother tried to love me and just failed. I wasn't loveable enough. She even did surgery to try to fix me, and it did increase my magical abilities. But still I was not good enough to be accepted as a son and loved." He dragged his gaze up to Dr. Manoru. "If one person beats the odds and manages to love me, do I even have the right to ask for two? Is my request for polyamory even legitimate?"

Dr. Manoru smiled sadly. "If you don't love yourself, it doesn't matter how many people love you. You will always feel unloved because no one is closer to you than yourself. You ask me the question 'Do I deserve love?' because you were programmed to believe you didn't. You feel you have 'beaten the odds' because you believe the odds are against you. Falling in love and being loved in return is, in actuality, ordinary."

Tatsuya closed his eyes because he knew Dr. Manoru was right. He focused on his feelings for Miyuki. He saw her face in his mind. He felt the warmth and need he knew were love. Then he focused on Masaki, saw his face, felt his own feelings. Love. He was "all in"—he had played two poker games at once, although without intending to, and every last bit of his money was in the two pots. He had to lay down his cards now and face the outcome.

Tatsuya opened his eyes. "They both have confessed love. I believe them both. Masaki has been committed to ethical polyamory from the beginning. Do I have the right to ask Miyuki, who believes in monogamy, to give polyamory a fair try?"

"Miyuki must make her own decisions," Dr. Manoru said. "You are not willing to give up either of the sources of love you have found. From your perspective, you are correcting a situation of being unloved. Is this not your attempt to do repair work? You were unloved by your mother and are unloved by your father. A woman, a man. You sought out a woman and a man. Is this really so strange?" She paused. "People who are wounded often wish to be 'filled up' by a surrogate. A romantic partner can become this surrogate. But in your case your neglect was extreme. I suggest that any one person attempting to do all the repair work with you would be overwhelmed. You did not lie when you told Miyuki that Masaki was helping you."

Tatsuya nodded slowly once more. He finally saw himself—truly saw himself—for the first time. "I understand." He thought of the old adage about knowing oneself and overcoming oneself. "Then I know what I have to do."

* * *

Tatsuya didn't wait long after his appointment with Dr. Manoru. He sat with Miyuki on the couch and explained to her everything he'd learned about himself, including his need to replace both his parents with lovers who would actually love and nurture him.

Having done that, he brought himself to what he assumed might be the most important point for Miyuki: "I actually have noticed you sexually. Before, I mean. I noticed you when I was programming your CAD after my duel with Hattori. You were in your underwear, and I noticed you. But it disturbed me too much, so I pushed the reaction away and went into denial about it. I thought, understandably, that as your brother I had no business thinking of you in such a light."

Miyuki's brow furrowed, and she bowed her head, her habitual defense when she needed to think about difficult things and recover her composure. She was silent for many moments. Then her voice emerged timidly. "I n-noticed Tatsuya-sama too." She placed a hand on her chest, as if she could feel her heart pounding. "You wouldn't remember this, would you? We were on vacation, before the invasion, at the villa Father reserved for us. One…" Her voice failed, and she tried again. "One morning I woke up and you were in the courtyard doing martial arts. I didn't know what you were doing specifically, but I could tell it was training. The sun shone down on you, and…" Her voice tightened. She raised her head and showed she was crying. "I thought, 'You are beautiful and brave, and why can't I get close to you? Why can't I understand you? Why are all the adults chasing me away?'"

She turned her gaze on him finally. "You need Ichijou? You need him to heal the wounds Father dealt you?" She fell on him with a tight hug. "I would do anything to heal you! If that means sharing you with Ichijou, then fine! I will."

Tatsuya had in no way expected this turn-around in Miyuki's reaction to Masaki. He had been too convinced he'd have to choose, too convinced his happiness would be partially or fully stolen from him. He threw his arms around Miyuki and hugged her tightly. "Miyuki . . ." His voice came out as a whisper. The ache in his chest told him love could hurt even without rejection. It could hurt because it could swell when wounds of the past were touched. But he slowly relaxed. "Thank you. I didn't want to choose. It seemed so likely that my needs would be denied or that I didn't have a right to experience love. To learn that I can . . . I can't explain what that means to me. It's beyond words."

Miyuki wept. "I'm sorry. I only noticed you might care when I was twelve, and everything happened so quickly. I wouldn't have stood by and let Mother and Father abuse you if I'd known their treatment wounded you. You always put on such a brave face. But when we saw our cousins for the first time in a long time, I saw so much emotion from you when they treated you warmly. I knew then. I was trying to figure out how to tell you I knew when the invasion happened." She kissed his lips impulsively, even though that made her turn bright red. "T-Tatsuya-sama…I call you that so you know I'm not ordering you around anymore. They made you call me Imou-sama. They said you didn't have rights. That was wrong. I said I released you from being my bodyguard, and I asked someone else to do it because to me that is the first step to you having a normal life. I wanted you to stay by my side if you wanted to, and if not, to go find happiness. When you stayed…" She caressed his cheek. "I was happy you gave me a chance to love you," she whispered.

Tatsuya didn't think Miyuki could have done a better job of melting him. He felt like a bowl of liquid butter. He cupped her cheek and kissed her, and for the first time it wasn't an experiment. It wasn't his trying to learn to see Miyuki as a fiancé instead of a sister. Inside he let go of his hesitance to step into a sexual place with her, and he let go of his unacknowledged fear that if he truly acted on what he wanted, Miyuki would ultimately reject him.

He kissed her passionately, suddenly pulling her to his chest and clutching her with near desperation. He slipped his tongue into her mouth, caressing, and for the first time with her, he moaned.

Miyuki clutched him just as tightly and squeaked, then moaned. He could feel the sheer heat radiating off her body. Her tongue met his, at first hesitant and then passionately. She was trembling. Slowly, she reversed the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth, and she brought up a hand and caressed his cheek. Gasping, she moaned again.

Since Miyuki had never reversed the kiss, Tatsuya hadn't expected the move. He flashed hard. Fully hard. Spurred on by this success, he continued to caress her tongue and then sucked on it. He ran one hand up under her hair and cupped the back of her neck. With sudden shock, he realized that the idea of Miyuki taking control sexually was arousing to him. In fact, the idea of always being in charge during sex suddenly seemed boring.

Miyuki moaned louder and shifted, straddling Tatsuya's lap. She pressed up against him chest-to-chest and filtered her fingers through his hair with both hands, pressing into the kiss. She slowed the kiss down, virtually pausing as she seemed to realize she was in command. Then she renewed it, sighing out a long, sweet moan. This kiss was slower and more thorough, as if she wanted to telegraph that he was safe with her.

Tatsuya was hyperaware that Miyuki was able to feel he was hard. She'd never straddled his lap before, so it was the first time. When she didn't seem bothered, Tatsuya relaxed again and wrapped his arms back around her. He enjoyed the way she pressed their chests together; he enjoyed the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. But most of all, he enjoyed that she loved him and that he was wanted. He continued to caress her tongue, letting her explore him all she wanted. He ended up kneading her back absently and moaning into the kiss as her desire for him became increasingly obvious.

Miyuki rocked a little on his lap, and she broke the kiss, panting. "Does Tatsuya-sama like…" She kissed his neck shyly and then his ear. Her breaths were uneven. "I want to learn what Tatsuya-sama likes." She caressed his cheek and then kissed his lower lip.

Tatsuya realized he was ready to let her explore him more. He'd kissed her neck plenty of times, but all his focus had remained on pleasing her. He hadn't made himself vulnerable yet. "I enjoy kisses to my neck." He paused, feeling the heat rising throughout his body. "My ears are quite sensitive. Kisses and licks there feel very good." He smiled. "I'm not ticklish there like you are."

Miyuki grinned and giggled. "I see." She stroked his neck and pressed kisses to his ear. "Tatsuya-kun likes ears," she whispered. "I like Tatsuya-kun's ears." The sudden change in honorifics seemed to be an impulsive adjustment on her part. She gently licked up the shell of his ear.

Tatsuya gasped sharply at the lick and then moaned. Hearing her call him _–kun_ in a sexual situation did something unexpected and powerful to him. His arousal doubled, leaving his erection pounding. He clutched her waist and let his head fall back against the couch cushion. "Miyuki . . ." He could feel the heat now radiating from Miyuki's groin where she was pressed against him, and he knew she had to feel his.

Miyuki kissed and nuzzled and even licked his exposed neck, exploring. Panting lightly, she made it back to his ear and licked it again. "You can call me Miyuki-chan," she whispered, and her blush flared.

Tatsuya was admittedly charmed by the cuteness factor. Calling Miyuki that at this point could only ever underscore cuteness. "I'm to call you Miyuki-chan in bed?" he teased her, unable to help it. He ran a gentle finger down her throat.

She shivered and ducked her head a little, showing her ticklishness to her neck, and he suddenly recalled her similar reaction when he had helped her with the chin strap of his passenger motorcycle helmet. It had been a long time now. She blushed even brighter now.

"And will you be wearing lacey pink underwear when I do?" He shocked himself with the flirting, but he was so proud of himself for it. It showed real progress. He tilted his head so Miyuki would have better access to his ear. "Or do you intend to haul your Tatsuya-kun away and tease him senseless?"

Miyuki kissed and even nibbled his ear, pressing against him with renewed passion. She rested her hands on his chest. "W-Will you allow me to…haul you away?"

Tatsuya realized that they were going to make it to the bed this time. So far all their explorations had occurred on the couch when Minami was out shopping or asleep. He gazed up at Miyuki, his ear still tingling from the kissing and nibbling. "I will," he whispered.

Miyuki stood in a flash, took Tatsuya's hand, and virtually ran with him to her bedroom. She shut the door and locked it and then walked more normally with Tatsuya to her bed. It was beautiful to the point of formality, but she recklessly tossed aside the extra decorative pillows and turned down the sheets. Then she tugged him into bed after her.

A moment of blushing hesitation followed, but Miyuki seemed to regain her nerve. She rolled them so that Tatsuya lay on his back, and she sat straddled atop him. She leaned over, breasts lightly brushing his chest, and gave his ear a little lick. "Is Tatsuya-kun comfortable?" she whispered.

'Tatsuya-kun' was slain by the sexiness and couldn't really form words. He had never once imagined himself on Miyuki's bed. Now he was on his back in her bed with her straddling him. He was aware of her breasts against his body, and his ear was tingling from the lick. Having released three years of denial and restraint, he wondered if he might come from the mere sight of Miyuki stripping down into her underwear. "Mn." The small sound of assent was all he was capable of.

Miyuki kissed and licked his ears and neck, seeming to thoroughly enjoy herself. "Tatsuya-kun," she whispered. "One day we'll share the same bed. We'll have s-s-s- ah, adult relations. It will be beautiful, if you want me. I want you to want me of your own free will." She licked his ear and then nibbled it lightly. "That said, if Tatsuya-kun is too shy, I will help." She took his hands gently, and when he didn't resist, she guided them up to her breasts.

Tatsuya hadn't dared touch Miyuki here yet, and if she hadn't guided his hands there, he still wouldn't have tried. He had noticed that Miyuki was well-endowed, but when his hands came in contact with the softness, his body released a powerful surge of arousal that burned through all his veins. He felt heat collecting in his face. "I don't think—I don't think my wanting you will be a problem after all," he murmured. He caressed her breasts gently, not wanting to massage too hard. They were quite soft, after all, so he assumed they were sensitive.

Miyuki blushed and swayed dizzily for a moment, letting out a sharp moan. "Tatsuya-kun…" She trembled. After a moment, she stopped cupping his hands and instead took off her shirt. Her bra was white with pink accents and a little pink bow in the center.

After all this time, Tatsuya had to admit how sexy Miyuki was in her underwear, lacy or not. She'd taken off her clothes plenty of times for the purpose of having a new spell loaded into her CAD, but this was completely different. Tatsuya fingers trembled ever so faintly as he returned his hands to her breasts, this time caressing them through her bra. Thanks to the way Miyuki was straddling him, he knew she felt his erection pressed against her groin. The heat growing between them there was intense, and he could feel his heart racing.

She closed her eyes with a little moan. "My heart is pounding," she whispered. "Tatsuya-kun's hands feel good." She shifted a little and let out a startled moan as she accidentally rubbed against his clothed erection. She placed her hand down there and cupped it, exploring instead of retreating. "Tatsuya-kun likes it this much?"

Having not expected the touch, Tatsuya gasped. He ached so hard from the simple caress that he nearly panted with it. "Mn. Yes." He paused and decided it was time for them to move forward. Miyuki seemed ready, after all. "Do you . . . do you wish to touch it without my pants in the way? Boxers only?" He estimated where her nipples likely were and caressed those spots through her bra.

Miyuki moaned, a deeper, more full-throated sound than usual. She nodded quickly as if unable to speak.

"As you wish," Tatsuya whispered. He released her and gestured for her to climb off. Then he undid his pants and took them off, tossing them onto the floor. A perfectly ordinary pair of black boxers with gray pinstripes were now visible to Miyuki. He settled on his back again. Miyuki was kneeling on the mattress beside him, and he reached up and caressed her arm. "Go at your own speed. I'm ready for whatever you wish to try, but don't rush yourself."

Miyuki reached out, drew her hand back, swallowed, and then extended her hand again. She looked to Tatsuya with wide eyes, searching for his reaction. Then her shoulders relaxed, and she tenderly stroked over his hidden erection, caressing the shape of it. "Tatsuya-kun," she whispered, looking at him with a melting expression.

Tatsuya was swept away by this. He honestly thanked Masaki for this success—not just for the previous sexual experiences but also for all the training in sexual patience and communication. He moaned softly at the gentle touch, and his erection twitched under her hand. It was only in that exact moment that he comprehended Miyuki as his fiancé. Somehow his touching her breasts hadn't been enough. Only her touching his erection caused the conversion. He caressed her arm again, encouraging her to be comfortable.

Miyuki laid down at his side, facing him, and snuggled up while she caressed him through his boxers. She watched him with adoration, and her body was hot to the touch where it was pressed against his. "Tatsuya-kun likes it when I pet him here," she murmured. She kissed his ear.

Tatsuya shivered with arousal, Miyuki's words getting to him even more than the stroking and the kiss. "Mn," he agreed. He gazed at her a moment more, drinking in the expression of love on her face, and then closed his eyes, relaxing on the mattress. He let his attention focus on the warm hand caressing over him.

Miyuki shifted against him slightly, and she licked his neck and ear delicately. At the same time, she cupped the shape of his erection through his boxers and stroked it with more confidence. She was silent except for the sound of her breathing.

Tatsuya moaned again and tilted his head faintly so she could reach his ear more easily. The idea that she might be willing to stroke him until he came fired through him and made his pulse jump. His heart thudded at the idea. With each passing second, he felt thin layers of denial peeling away from him, revealing the truth that he begun to fall in love with her at the same time she had fallen in love with him. Thanks to his position in the family, his love had been more than merely taboo. It had been beyond reason. It had been as if a horse fell in love with its owner. He had clamped down on it as hard as he could, driving it deep into his subconscious until only his protectiveness and affection had remained at the top—the first one normal and the second one odd but still innocent.

The restraints drifted away from Tatsuya now, floating away like sparkling white psions.

Miyuki panted lightly again as she lapped and kissed his ear. Growing bolder still, she quickened her movements, shedding the shy, almost faltering slowness, and held him in her hand more firmly. A moment after that, she whispered, "May I…touch your skin?"

Tatsuya was glad he was already lying flat on his back; he wondered if he would have toppled over otherwise. He had never imagined Miyuki would move this fast or prove this bold. The effect upon him was immediate. He began to leak helplessly, which was frankly embarrassing since Miyuki was female. But he forced himself to be calm about that part. After all, Miyuki had to learn about men's bodies at some point. "If you're ready, then I'm ready," he whispered. He pulled at his boxers; the slit in them was actually closed by a small patch of Velcro. There was a plastic hiss as the boxers opened. He paused, his fingers hovering just shy of pulling out his erection. "If you touch my bare skin and lick my ear at the same time, I'm going to end up . . . 'finishing.'"

Miyuki let out a delighted noise and reached in, wrapping her hand around him. She squirmed a little. "Tatsuya-kun, I want you to finish!" She kissed his ear and lapped at it with gentle persistence. "I want to see Tatsuya-kun 'happy.'"

 _I'm doomed._ Tatsuya was equal parts aroused and embarrassed. After all, they were charging right over the line and not looking back. _Brother-sister. Husband-wife._ He took a deep breath and allowed himself to focus on the soft hand now caressing his bare erection. The instant he did, he moaned. Miyuki's insistent licks and kisses upon his ear drew a sharper moan from him. _I'm going first. It's only right somehow since I want Miyuki to feel at ease and happy with whatever we do . . ._

Miyuki nibbled his ear. She moaned softly. "Tatsuya-kun is so slick now." She ran her fingers over his tip. "He must really like it. I'm happy." She stroked him more firmly and sucked on his earlobe.

Tatsuya realized Miyuki was going to undo him quickly at this rate. "Miyuki—Miyuki-chan . . ." He ended up squeezing his eyes shut more tightly and arching his hips up into her hand. He clutched the sheet with his left hand. He wondered if he might short-circuit at the last moment, but his years-long denial of his need was raging through him. He wanted her. Badly.

"Yes," Miyuki whispered. She stroked him more firmly still, encouraging. "I thought about you, about what it would be like to touch you all over. When we were on that vacation, before the invasion…remember when we were on the beach and we saw a high school boyfriend and girlfriend? The boy applied sunscreen to the girl all over, in public. I found myself daydreaming that you would put on my sunscreen and take a very long time." She gave his ear a long lick.

Tatsuya was surprised to hear this confession. He was also completely undone. Between the words, the firms strokes, and the long lick, he couldn't hold out. He didn't even try. He wanted to be able to come for her and give her the pleasure and fulfillment of that. He gasped sharply, felt a dangerous pause, and then pushed through to the emotion. He came silently, his hips still desperately pressing him up into her touch.

After several moments, he collapsed onto the mattress, breathless and panting, and prayed she wouldn't find the mess too disgusting.

Miyuki merely used magic to clean them up, using the portable terminal on her nightstand. This demonstrated her improvement since the first year of high school. Tatsuya felt a cool, refreshing rush of cleanliness that smelled like pure mountain snow.

Miyuki snuggled up to him and pulled the covers up over them. She kissed Tatsuya's temple and forehead. "Tatsuya-kun," she whispered reverently. "You let me take care of you."

Tatsuya relaxed at Miyuki's matter-of-fact treatment of the mess. "Yes," he murmured. "You may do so whenever you please." He wrapped his arms around her and held her. "I would be more comfortable if you initiated." He was conscious of applying the rule of 'open communication' to this situation. "I want you to go at your own pace. But I assure you that I'm willing to be taken care of, and you are wanted."

Miyuki's eyes widened. "I wouldn't have thought that you wished me to initiate. I thought that would remind you of bad memories." She rested her head against his chest. "I've been longing to take Tatsuya-kun to my room many times and did not wish to frighten him. Am I not a 'carnivorous woman?'"

Tatsuya snorted faintly. "You are an _engaged_ woman. I admit that before today, I likely couldn't have done this. But I was ready tonight, and I am ready to move forward. For me, this means that your showing interest in me is welcome. Not 'carnivorous' or lustful."

Miyuki hugged him with a sigh of satisfaction.

* * *

Tatsuya and Miyuki's Valentine's Day date went beautifully.


	13. As You Are

**Chapter 13**

 **As You Are**

Since Tatsuya took Miyuki out for Valentine's Day on Saturday, he made arrangements—with Miyuki's blessing—to meet Masaki in Toyama on Sunday in order to celebrate Valentine's. Tatsuya made sure he didn't interrupt Masaki and Kichijouji's date, but Masaki assured him they would go out on Saturday night.

It turned out to be Tatsuya's turn to pay for dinner, and they made a reservation at the best sushi restaurant in Toyama. They agreed to go all out and wear traditional clothing.

Tatsuya arrived at "their hotel" at 1700 hours, having given himself plenty of time to get settled in before their supper. They were going to spend the night and then return home early in the morning so they wouldn't be late for school.

Tatsuya had received a text from Masaki indicating he had arrived first and their room number was 305. Tatsuya headed up, catching looks from passersby. He wore a very traditional outfit: a black kimono with a haori that had the Yotsuba's gamons on it—five of them, considering they were a master clan. He also wore black- and white-striped hakama, white tabi, and wooden zori. Even he had to admit he was looking his best, and the outfit caught everyone's eye because it cost the same as a typical salary man's pay for six months combined. Of course, Tatsuya hadn't bought it. Miyuki had managed to get the outfit on loan. Apparently it had been their grandfather's.

He knocked on the hotel room door, and a smiling Masaki let him in.

Masaki wore a dark red kimono with a similar haori. His hakama was dark gray. He also wore white tabi, but instead of zori, he wore red geta. As soon as the door was closed, Masaki hugged Tatsuya closely. "You should wear these kinds of clothes more often," he murmured.

Tatsuya reached up and caressed Masaki's cheek. Seeing Masaki in traditional clothing had a powerful effect on him that he couldn't have predicted. Although he'd been aware of Masaki's attractiveness this entire time, and was entranced by it when Masaki was in pleasure, Masaki looked so handsome in traditional clothing that the mere sight of him made Tatsuya's pulse jump once. He was surprised at himself, but pleasantly so. "You definitely should." He smiled. "And of course you would choose red," he teased. He pulled Masaki into a lingering kiss, admitting to himself that he was relieved to be on this date without conflict with Miyuki.

Masaki kissed back, moaning softly. "If you do that a few more times, we might be late to the restaurant." He caressed Tatsuya's cheek. "I wouldn't want your arrangements to go to waste."

Tatsuya chuckled. "You're likely right about that. Let's be sensible." He deposited his overnight bag and headed out with Masaki.

Masaki brought an umbrella since there was a threat of rain. Sure enough, not five minutes into their walk to the restaurant, the rain began. Tatsuya had never been cowed by the social convention that getting caught in the rain without an umbrella was humiliating, but Masaki's social training was flawless. Masaki opened the umbrella, and Tatsuya didn't argue about sharing it with him. After all, it gave them a perfectly logical reason to be walking together so closely.

When they arrived at the restaurant, the hostess took them to their table, which was in a private, screened-off booth. Three of the walls were made of bamboo and rice paper, and a soft light illuminated the table.

The hostess left them with menus, and the server brought them green tea.

Masaki sipped his tea and looked at Tatsuya with affection. "I'm glad you let me share my umbrella with you. Being able to walk so closely in public was nice."

"Immensely," Tatsuya said. "But that is hardly the only romantic thing I intend to implement this evening." He slipped his hand inside his kimono to the sewn-in pocket and pulled out a small gift box. Miyuki had taken pity on him and wrapped it for him, so it was decked out in shiny red paper and a glittery gold bow. He set the box on the table and pushed it over to Masaki.

Masaki's eyes widened. He stared at the box and then at Tatsuya. "You bought me something?" Then his expression softened. "That's really thoughtful." He smiled. "I left mine back at the hotel. You sneak-attacked me. I didn't think we'd be exchanging presents over supper." He gently touched the gold bow. "Do you want me to open it now or after I'm home?" That meant modern conventions or traditional conventions. Traditionally, gifts weren't opened in front of people.

"Now," Tatsuya said. He genuinely wanted to see Masaki's reaction. He'd stayed up until 400 hours Thursday night finding the gift and then had paid to have it over-nighted. It was an extremely hard to come by classic video game: Dragonball A+. Masaki had mentioned owning it as a child and being inconsolable when it ended up data-corrupted.

Masaki opened the box so carefully that he didn't damage the wrapping paper. Miyuki's super-neat and precise job also helped. Masaki strategically lifted the tape and slid the box right out of its red paper shell. Then he lifted the lid. He glanced at Tatsuya. "You—You remembered a thing like that?" He beamed with happiness. "It's perfect!" The simple, direct words seemed to resonate from the core of his being.

Tatsuya smiled, feeling ridiculously pleased. "I'm glad. I wanted to give a gift that mattered. I prefer to give practical gifts. After some thought, I realized the game wasn't practical in the traditional sense but would definitely give you more pleasure than chocolates or roses." He chuckled. "I'm sure you'll get a landslide of chocolates from the girls at school, anyway."

Masaki groaned. "Don't remind me. At this point, I have to bring an extra duffle bag to school just to carry them all home. It doesn't matter that a lot of sugar makes me sick. It's the decorum of the holiday that matters. Truthfully, half the chocolates are eaten by Jouji. He's even made a rubric by now that he can sneak to me so that I can compliment the givers accordingly. Without Jouji, I'd really be lost." He laughed. "The first year Jouji saw me dutifully trying to finish the chocolates, he intervened. I was trying to be 'nice' by trying everyone's chocolates, and I ended up in the bathroom puking from the sugar overload."

"Something your younger sisters no doubt teased you about." Tatsuya shook his head. He found he was amused. "It seems fitting that Kichijouji would make a rubric. He's very precise."

Tatsuya paused as the server returned, took their orders, and delivered their miso soup.

Once she was gone, Tatsuya reached across the table and took Masaki's hand, squeezing gently. "Well, I'm glad you're here with me."

Masaki squeezed Tatsuya's hand tightly in return. "This is very romantic, and I'm also glad you want to share this with me." The corner of his mouth lifted. "Next year, I'm going to be the one planning the Valentine's Day celebration for you. It'll be my turn."

"I'm sure you'll go all out." Tatsuya smiled. "I'll look forward to it." He sipped his soup in pleasant silence, enjoying being with Masaki. They had reached the 'comfortable silence' stage. He found his mind wandering off to later. He imagined holding Masaki in his arms, kissing. The image made him feel warm, and the hot soup didn't help.

Supper was equally comfortably silent, aside from comments about the freshness of the fish in the sushi, the precision of the temperature it was served at, and the complexity of the soy sauce accompaniments. There were six different flavors of soy sauce to choose from.

Afterwards they took a self-guided taxi back to the hotel room. Masaki chatted during the short ride about Dragonball A+ and invited Tatsuya to play it with him. Dragonball A+ was evidently an experimental game from the standpoint that it was about the canon characters accepting disciples, who would then compete in the World Tournament at the climax of the game.

When they reached their room, Masaki took a gift-wrapped box out of the small closet where he'd stashed it. The wrapping paper had a blue and silver geometric design that glittered, and the bow was red. He held it out to Tatsuya with both hands. "I'd planned to ambush you, but you got me first. Sounds familiar."

Tatsuya cringed, but he knew the comment was all in good fun. "Thank you. Shall I open it now as well? Or do you wish for me to wait until later?"

Masaki laughed. "I'm used to having presents opened in front of me. You can wait if you're shy about it; I won't mind. But you won't offend me by opening it now, either."

Tatsuya settled on the edge of one bed and tore right in. He saw no reason to wait, and he figured Masaki would enjoy watching him. He was less artful about it, shredding the paper in the process and then opening the box.

Masaki did watch with evident enjoyment at Tatsuya's energy.

Inside the box, nestled in product packaging, was a tiny energy cell. Without being plugged in, it looked similar to an energy efficient lightbulb with an extra metal casing at the top and bottom like a battery. To the uninitiated this was a very small and disappointing present. However, Tatsuya recognized it for what it was: the engine cell of an electric motorcycle. This was a gift that had cost Masaki easily as much as the out of print video game.

"The TI-1200 series," Masaki murmured. He took a slow, graceful step forward and rested his hand on Tatsuya's shoulder. "I know you only bought your motorcycle for practical reasons, and you didn't buy any extras. I figured if I bought you the engine upgrade, we would be able to go off-road racing together. There's a track half an hour from your house and twenty minutes from the university campus." He smiled. "We've talked before about how your bike doesn't have the power to go off-road, and you wouldn't want to exhaust its limited energy doing frivolous things."

Tatsuya was rendered speechless. Since his original motorcycle had been destroyed, he had been equally practical about its replacement. Being given the upgrade was so thoughtful, especially considering what they could do with it, that Tatsuya simply stood and pulled Masaki into his arms, hugging him. He closed his eyes, touched by Masaki's care. "It's perfect," he said, using the same reply without irony. "We should definitely go off-road as soon as the weather is warmer." He didn't care about the cold; he simply knew the trail would be more enjoyable for Masaki scenery-wise.

Masaki hugged Tatsuya back closely and gently kissed Tatsuya's neck. "Sounds great." He paused a beat. "And we'll want to blow off steam after the stress of entering college." He reached up and rubbed Tatsuya's back between the shoulder blades.

"Definitely." Tatsuya smiled, thinking of his success with Miyuki. Finally. Knowing he'd succeeded with Miyuki only made him feel even more relaxed with Masaki. The looming threat of failure with Miyuki wasn't hovering over his head anymore. "So is this the part where we 'celebrate' Valentine's Day?"

Masaki laughed. "I think so, yes."

Tatsuya moved to the bed, lying down and pulling Masaki down on top of him. He ran his fingers through Masaki's soft hair, then pulled him into a kiss. Masaki's body weight on top of him felt good. _Let me be taken care of. Let me be the one to be protected for a change. I don't want to be on the front lines all the time._ He mouthed Masaki's lips. 

Masaki seemed to get the message. He moaned softly and stroked Tatsuya's hair, settling on top. Once Tatsuya released their kiss, Masaki pressed kisses to his face, nuzzled his ears, and kissed his way down his neck, lapping slowly. His hands drifted down, and he took Tatsuya's hands in his, squeezing gently.

Tatsuya felt himself begin to stir. This time, it wasn't newfound need raging out of him. This was about connection, he realized. They were celebrating their connection with each other. Tatsuya closed his eyes and let Masaki take over. He understood he was safe. And, at long last, he knew—truly knew—he was loved. "Yes," he whispered, his neck tingling from the kisses.

At this encouragement, Masaki took off Tatsuya's shirt and ran his hands over Tatsuya's bared chest. He slid down, wrapping his arms around Tatsuya's waist, and kissed Tatsuya's nipples, teasing each of them into hardness before licking and mouthing them.

Tatsuya gasped, his back arching faintly up into the touches. A quiet moan escaped him as he felt himself relax further, sinking into the mattress. He felt something click inside. "I want to have sex with you." He had been curious about it before. Now it was more than curiosity. He wanted them to share that deeper connection. "When you are also ready, please let me know. I remember you said it'll take lots of preparation."

Masaki's face turned hot against Tatsuya's chest. "Yes." He took Tatsuya's hands again and squeezed them, interlacing their fingers. "It'll take lots of preparation. I'll – I'll let you know." There was a thin note in his voice caused by some powerful emotion. "I'll keep that in mind. The next time we meet I'll pack supplies just in case." He pressed kisses to Tatsuya's chest. "God, I didn't expect this. But if you're ready, I respect that. I – yes. It'll be good."

"Okay." Tatsuya returned the squeeze to his hands. He reflected that he was surprised he had arrived at this level of comfort. He had never been focused on sex. The normal raging hormones just hadn't affected him. Even now, he could imagine it with more than mere arousal; he could imagine it with the connection Masaki had forged with him during oral sex. "Sorry to interrupt your efforts to pleasure me. I just felt the readiness click into place. That's all."

"No, you don't need to apologize," Masaki said quickly. He smiled up at Tatsuya, his blue-green eyes soft. "I'm glad. It means a lot to me. To know you trust me enough now to want that with me—that's the best thing you possibly could've said." He kissed his way down Tatsuya's stomach, shifting again. "Right now I want to make love to you with my mouth. Is that okay? I want to get your permission first instead of jumping right in. If you want to do something else tonight, that's fine."

Tatsuya shook his head and smiled. He couldn't quite bring himself to say—yet—that the oral sex was what made him feel the most deeply connected to Masaki. So far, anyway. "It's more than okay," he murmured. He gazed at Masaki's beautiful face. "This is important." The words were insufficient, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

Masaki let go of Tatsuya's hands in order to help Tatsuya get his pants and boxers down. When they were situated again, he took Tatsuya's hands once more. Masaki kissed and licked over Tatsuya's length, teasing and exploring. Then Masaki's hot, soft mouth was enveloping the tip of his erection.

Tatsuya gasped and then moaned. The sheer intensity of Masaki's dedication was matched only by the intensity of the soft heat now surrounding him. He squeezed Masaki's hands tightly. _You learned to trust me. I learned to trust you. And now we have this._ He felt his lips part with a second moan.

Masaki sank his mouth on Tatsuya a couple inches more, sucking slowly. He squeezed Tatsuya's hands just as tightly in return.

At that point, Tatsuya couldn't have kept his eyes open even if he'd wanted to. Masaki's passion washed over him, and instead of thinking it was something he could never feel in return, Tatsuya found himself sinking into the arousal and pleasure. "Masaki," he whispered. The few times he'd imagined sex with Masaki, he'd imagined being on top. In this moment, he found himself wondering what it might feel like from the bottom. Being both the giver and receiver during oral sex had advantages, despite the vastly different experiences they rendered. Perhaps sex was the same way.

Masaki moaned in response to Tatsuya's whisper, and he sank Tatsuya still deeper into his mouth, slowly sucking and caressing with his tongue. After shifting, he slowly moved his head, seeming to savor the sensation of Tatsuya sliding in and out of his mouth.

 _Is it so good for you?_ Tatsuya thought, but he knew he got pleasure from giving this to Masaki. He moaned and realized he was letting himself be vulnerable for a change. Instead of remaining hyper-vigilant, he had relaxed—relaxed into the mattress, relaxed into Masaki's touch, and allowed himself to be consumed by Masaki's mouth. He moaned and squirmed faintly on the bed. _Is it so good?_ he now asked himself. But he could feel that it was. _You are fine with my progress, no matter how slow or fast. You respect even this side of me. I can let you see this side of me._ He moaned again, squirming once more, tingles erupting through his erection and hips.

Masaki kept on slowly devouring him, in and out, caressing, sucking. Every movement seemed imbued with meaning, a specialness that the physicality of their bodies certainly didn't have. Bodies weren't sentimental, but this was. Masaki moaned, lapped at him, and even paused with him buried inside his mouth.

"Oh, god." Tatsuya understood he was being made love to again. It hit him in that moment that Masaki was a sensational lover—sensual, invested, devoted. It caused a surge of emotion Tatsuya couldn't name. "Masaki," he gasped. He ended up watching Masaki, and the sight only aroused him more. "Masaki . . ." _You want me._ It struck him just as hard as it had the first time. _You actually want me. As I am. And you want . . . this part of me._ He couldn't put his finger on what the revelation was, and he didn't try. He just moaned. Knowing that his erection was inside of Masaki's body was arousing in and of itself, especially given how hot and soft Masaki's mouth was.

Masaki's ears turned pink, and he moaned. He took Tatsuya's hips suddenly, gently and firmly pressing Tatsuya into his mouth. He stayed there and sucked, emitting little gasping breaths, clearly aroused and moved.

Tatsuya's next moan was louder, deeper. He was stunned by how much of himself Masaki could take in. "Masaki," he gasped again. He reached down, caressing over Masaki's soft hair. _You love me. I know that you do. I can actually feel it._ He felt so surreal it was as though he'd climbed into a different reality, much like meditation except he was surrounded by the warm haze of pleasure. _That you can give this to me is . . . is . . ._ His hips tried to shift, to rock, but Masaki held him still. "Masaki!" he moaned sharply.

Masaki held Tatsuya still firmer. Then, just as Tatsuya had done for him before, Masaki moved Tatsuya's hips for him, keeping his head still and instead pumping Tatsuya's hips upwards.

"Oh, god!" Tatsuya cried out, a stunning amount of pleasure slamming through him. He reached a level of pleasure he hadn't achieved before, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He clutched the sheets, and his thighs flexed on instinct. The concept that he might soon be able to make love to Masaki underscored the depth of his current arousal. "I'm going to come!" he found himself saying, the words bursting out of him. "Masaki!"

Masaki didn't move, pleasuring Tatsuya right over the edge and containing the result. He moaned and squeezed Tatsuya's hips. Then he took Tatsuya's hands, squeezing them again. At last, he gently freed Tatsuya from his mouth. With a soft look, he retired to the bathroom.

Tatsuya heard the water running in the sink. Then Masaki returned after a moment, smiling, and snuggled up to Tatsuya, lying over him. "I think the perfect thing to say on Valentine's is this: You are fine just the way you are. You don't have to be anything more—anything more than who, and what, and how you are in this moment. You're enough like that. Like this."

Tatsuya felt a jumble of powerful emotions at those words. He felt like Masaki had reached inside of him and caressed his spirit. It was the strangest sensation, and it made his throat halfway close up for a moment. He hugged Masaki tightly to his chest and pressed kisses to his face. "Masaki . . ."He kissed Masaki's lips, mouthing softly. _I cannot give you up. I'm glad it turns out I don't have to choose._ "I also require nothing more from you than who you are, right now."

"I appreciate that. More than you know." Masaki took in the kisses with an expression of mingled pain and devotion. Then the pain eased off, leaving him looking almost angelic with tenderness. He kissed Tatsuya's lips in return and took a deep breath. "It's been a long couple of weeks." He rested his head on Tatsuya's shoulder. "It's good to get away and be with you."

Tatsuya realized he was going to have to begin asking questions about Masaki's family, their dynamics, and their demands upon Masaki—both as a son and as an heir. But now was not the time. "I am glad to be a safe haven." He caressed Masaki's hair. "Are you and Kichijouji okay?"

"Of course," Masaki said, seeming startled. "Jouji and I are okay. I mean, he's – you know, he works a lot, but he's good. Nothing unusual." His voice grew heavy. "I'm beginning to wonder how long I can go before my family finds out I'm dating not one but two men."

Tatsuya was honestly glad to hear that nothing was wrong with Masaki's relationship with Kichijouji. He knew he was mature enough to share, and Masaki's friendship with Kichijouji was important to Masaki, not to mention a great source of support and strength. Tatsuya was deeply uncomfortable with his temporary "fight" with Miyuki, and he didn't want anything similar to happen to Masaki.

As for Masaki's concern, Tatsuya frowned. "For the record, I would stand up to either my aunt or your father if I needed to in order to defend our romantic relationship. It would be better to leave them in the dark, though, so we can be left in peace."

Masaki nodded, looking unhappy. "I have no idea how my family will react, although my sister Akane has been calling me gay for years now."

"We are both eighteen now," Tatsuya said. "We are legal adults, and we can do what we need to do. Also, high school graduation is not far away, and beyond that is work or college. You and Kichijouji will move to Tokyo to attend Magic University. We won't live very far apart. And we will be conducting fully adult lives."

Masaki grinned. "You're right. I'm really looking forward to living near you. Jouji is, too. He wants to hang out. We're a special little group. We have a shared life, even if Jouji doesn't want to be in the center of us. I'd really like to start having regular hangout times with all three of us once we're all in the same city."

Tatsuya felt no hope that Kichijouji would want to befriend him, but he was willing to try for Masaki's sake. "Certainly I don't mind hanging out with a fellow scientist. I'm quite sure Kichijouji and I can have fascinating conversations." He could—and had from the beginning—respect Kichijouji's intelligence.

It occurred to Tatsuya in that moment that if Miyuki and Kichijouji could both fully accept Masaki's and his relationship, then Tatsuya would have successfully created a miniature family all his own.

In his mind, it seemed too good to be true.


	14. Jealousy

_**Author's Note: As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved, or followed!**_

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

 **Jealousy**

Two weekends after Valentine's, Masaki came to Tokyo in order to spend time with Tatsuya. He arrived early that morning and camped out in the kitchen of the Ichijou family's Tokyo house, drinking coffee and working on homework. He had texted Tatsuya to let him know he had arrived, and Tatsuya had said he'd be over around noon.

However, at 11:00 the doorbell rang.

Tatsuya hadn't texted Masaki to say he'd be early, so Masaki was surprised. He left his tablet on the kitchen table and went to do the door. When he checked the monitor, he discovered that Miyuki was on the front doorstep.

Masaki cringed faintly. He hadn't seen Miyuki in four months, since the Thesis competition, and he hadn't actually talked to her in six months, when she'd turned him down flatly. He also couldn't imagine any good reason she'd be here now. However, he opened the door and smiled. "Shiba-san! This is a surprise. Come in." He stepped back and gestured for her to enter.

Miyuki bowed. "Thank you, Ichijou-san. I apologize for the inconvenience." She stepped inside. These days almost no one except members of important clans used house shoes; instead, they just walked around in their socks. She substituted her street shoes for guest house shoes now. As she straightened from that task, she said, "However, I felt that if I had asked you to meet with me, you may have refused."

Masaki shut the door and felt his chest tighten. He lifted his chin slightly. _If you've decided to order me to give up Tatsuya, then forget it. I'm not going to bow to you, and the decision is really Tatsuya's._ "I see." He gestured for her to follow, and he led her into the kitchen. "Something to drink?" He wouldn't be accused of having bad manners.

"No, thank you," Miyuki said. "I am not thirsty right now. Please have a drink yourself if you are thirsty." She didn't move to sit. Privately, she felt uncomfortable, almost panicked at her spur-of-the-moment decision to come here, but she strengthened her resolve.

She launched into her rehearsed speech. "Ichijou-san, I regret my hasty and hurtful words to you before." She bowed again. "I know I likely crushed your spirit, and I am sorry for that." She straightened. "However, we must set aside our awkward past. Tatsuya-sama needs us. He has selected us to be the two cornerstones of his world. We must work together to support him."

Masaki was glad he hadn't picked up his coffee cup. He would have dropped it. He stared at Miyuki with no small amount of shock. Even now, after all of this, he felt his heart rate accelerate slightly from being in her presence. It made him wonder if Miyuki had been genetically engineered with more powerful pheromones than the average human.

After a moment, Masaki collected himself. "Ah—well, yes." He slipped onto one of the chairs. The table was a high-top, so the chair was as tall as a bar stool. "I think you would agree that Tatsuya has made a stunning amount of progress in the last few months, but everyone needs support. Always."

"Tatsuya-sama needs more support than most," Miyuki declared. "Our family neglected him. I was ordered to treat him as a servant, and every time one of the adults caught me trying to be close to him, I was reminded of his place and then separated from him until I could behave properly." She lifted her chin. "I intend to make up for that. Tatsuya-sama said he needs a man to fill part of the emptiness in his heart. He has chosen you. Do you wish to work as hard as I do to make sure that Tatsuya-sama feels loved?"

Somehow, hearing the details from Miyuki made Masaki feel cold with anger instead of hot with rage. He was glad Tatsuya had already mentioned some of this, otherwise he would have been swamped with horror. "Absolutely." He picked up his coffee cup and sipped. "Tatsuya's told me a bit. Frankly, your family sounds horrible. I would never leave him to their cruelty and abuse. He deserves to feel loved and appreciated."

Miyuki blazed brightly with excess psions, fueled by relief. "Yes! I can't make up for having parents such as these, but I can help Tatsuya-sama feel the love and appreciation he should have always been given. What does it matter that my brother was born with Superpowers instead of the normal multi-faceted magic of a modern magician?" She insisted upon using the throwback term instead of the modern equivalent 'Born Specialized.' "Besides which, my family should never have relied upon magic to measure an entire person's worth."

Masaki was impressed with Miyuki's fair-minded nature. "Agreed. Being a great magician will get you respect in my family, but only if you're also a good person. If you're a jerk, then all bets are off. Also, we value people for other skills and talents, too, such as music, art, academics or business sense. It sounds like the Yotsuba and the Ichijou are opposites." He paused. "Even though Tatsuya is sometimes rather negative or pessimistic, I think he's actually a sweet guy on the inside. He just hasn't ever felt safe enough to show it. Until now, with us."

Tears welled up in Miyuki's eyes. "Tatsuya-sama has always been gentle with me. He did not have to love me. It is a miracle that he felt those emotions since my family tried to take them away from him in multiple ways and turn him into a tool." She placed a hand over her heart. "He was treated as disposable, a living shield to protect me. I was told to disregard his humanity. Tatsuya-sama revealed he believed that I followed their orders. So why does he love me?" She took a deep breath. "Because Tatsuya-sama is a splendid and extraordinary person, that's why. Because his heart is special. He loved me and longed for me to be more than the mistress who owned him. I, for my part, did not wish for this role from the beginning, but he had no way of knowing that. He loved me in spite of everything."

She nodded. "Now he does the same for you. He loves you in spite of the taboo. It is more apt to say that he does not care it is taboo."

Now that she had gotten all of that off her chest, she sat down with Masaki. "So you agree that we are special in Tatsuya-sama's estimation. He has decided he feels safe with both of us. He will allow us to help him heal his heart." She pressed forward to the next part of her appeal. "We must be strong together for him. We must also have a bond. We must be a family."

Masaki was equally stunned to hear this. Part of him felt the implied request was only logical. Another part felt uncomfortable. Still, Kichijouji had summarized for Masaki the articles he'd read on ethical polyamory. Masaki knew things would go better with the communication lines open between Miyuki and him. "Very well. That only makes sense." He paused, unable to put his finger on the source of his discomfort. He did hope his body would eventually learn to ignore Miyuki's pheromones—or whatever was happening. "In that case, I must petition for the inclusion of Jouji in this family. I don't know if Tatsuya's mentioned it, but I'm dating Jouji, too. Jouji and Tatsuya share professional interests. I think they could be good friends."

Miyuki was surprised because Tatsuya hadn't mentioned any such thing. "I see. Then it is necessary to include Kichijouji-san. We must be a four-person family of two couples bridged by a person in common: Tatsuya-sama." She frowned with determination. "We must start spending time together as a group. If we do not spend time together as a group, we cannot bond as a group."

Masaki nodded. "I'm all for that." Actually, part of him was horrified. But again, he wanted his relationship with Tatsuya to be a success, and that required befriending Miyuki and working with her. "It shouldn't be too hard. High school will be over in a few weeks, and Jouji and I will be moving here. We'll live in this house while we attend the university." He considered their options. "We could even form a study group."

Miyuki brightened. "An excellent idea. We will support each other in academics and in friendship."

"Agreed." Masaki smiled and told himself this was a good thing. Surely his discomfort would pass, and Kichijouji would be at his side for extra moral support.

With these rationalizations, he saw Miyuki to the door after a few more minutes of general discussion.

* * *

Masaki's weekend with Tatsuya went fine, and Tatsuya seemed genuinely pleased to hear that Masaki and Miyuki had agreed to work together and become friends.

However, by the time Masaki returned to Kanazawa Sunday night, he was not fine. He went straight to Kichijouji's room in the dorm, having texted him and warned him that he was on his way.

As soon as Kichijouji opened the door, Masaki burst in. "I'm a terrible person!" He'd just had a two and a half hour train ride during which to ponder the situation.

Kichijouji took this statement with all the seriousness he felt it deserved—which was none at all—but he wiped his disbelief from his face. He closed the door gently and pulled Masaki into a hug. "Why have you come to the conclusion that you are a terrible person?"

Masaki hugged him back and tried to take comfort in the fact that Kichijouji would hear him out and tell him the truth. More than that, Kichijouji would help him. "I agreed to polyamory because you argued that it would be best. Clan heir. Wife. Kids. Yada, yada. And then when I approached Tatsuya, I was all suave about polyamory because I'm not a fool: After being around them more, I could tell Tatsuya was in love with Miyuki, too." He paused and then let out the ugliness: "But I don't wanna share!"

Kichijouji guided Masaki to sit down with him on his bed. He sat in the center of his bed and put Masaki's head on his lap. Calmly, he started stroking Masaki's hair. "Are you surprised that the pressure you put on yourself to be the most selfless person in the whole world results in your horror at finding a pocket of selfishness? You told me once about how you were taught to 'share' with your younger sisters. This resulted in half your crayons getting broken, juice spilled on your favorite picture, and then your coloring book being taken away and given to Akane instead. 'Sharing' has never ended well for you. In fact, once Akane was born, you no longer felt as special to your parents. You were told to protect your sisters. You were told to bear the brunt for them. To be a 'good older brother.' Flash forward, and Akane demands for you to 'share' me, which really means to give me up so that she can marry me. We no sooner finish navigating that than Shiba Miyuki informs you that you must 'share' Tatsuya. That word spells doom to you."

"But I knew going in I had to share Tatsuya with Miyuki." Even to Masaki, his protest sounded weak. Kichijouji had hit the nail on the head when it came to Masaki's experiences with 'sharing.' "It's not like I thought Tatsuya would get rid of her just to date me alone. Okay, so sometimes I daydreamed he would. But I knew he wouldn't in real life." He paused, clutching one of Kichijouji's legs. "And Jouji . . . it's still true that I don't actually want to share you. That's not _fair._ You're having to share me! If someone came along who you fell in love with, I shouldn't get all jealous about it. I should let you have your second person. But the mere thought makes me ill."

Kichijouji thought about Masaki's words carefully and about what Masaki wanted. "Your notions of fairness have been dictated by your parents. I would like you to disregard 'fairness' and evaluate what is left." He didn't stop stroking Masaki's hair. "As for me, I am not in love with someone else. I am in love with you. Your father has already expressed his willingness to train Akane as clan head, which would free you to manage your relationships as you like."

Kichijouji lapsed into silent thought for a moment. "You said Tatsuya explained to you about his therapist's insight into how he works. Tatsuya is searching for female love and male love to replace the love he didn't receive from his parents. Masaki…what does love mean to you? What are you searching for? I can speak for myself: I am not searching for someone to replace my parents."

Masaki was silent for so long that after a few minutes he said "I'm still thinking" and then lapsed back into his self-analysis. Finally, he sighed. "I'm searching for someone like me—or at least someone who can understand me. You know those personality tests the school made us take? Well, I asked my parents what they'd scored when they took them. Both of my dad and Akane are Artisan personality types. In fact, they're the same exact type. I looked up the different personalities, and I'm sure about Akane. My mom and Ruri are Guardian personality types. They're not the same one, but they're in the same category. I'm the only person with an Idealist personality. I'm the only one whose personality is based on Intuition. My whole family is very kind, but they also don't really get me. I didn't meet anyone who did get me until I met you, even though you're a Rational. Still, though, your personality type is Intuition-based like mine. And so is Tatsuya's. He's not the same type of Rational you are, but he is one in general. It took him some time, but now he understands me."

Kichijouji nodded. "An analysis worthy of your considerable level of insight into yourself and others," he murmured. He sighed and stroked Masaki's cheek. "I, too, am searching for someone 'like me.' So our motivations match. What we need to know is whether Tatsuya wants your love for a similar reason. In other words, he could have chosen any man. Why did he choose you? Has he hinted about why he is attracted to you?"

Masaki cringed as he tried to think through all the conversations he'd had with Tatsuya. "I don't remember anything specific. He's said things about how respectful I am as a boyfriend, how understanding and patient I've been with his struggles, and how good he feels I am at communication. But those are reasons why he's staying, not reasons why he came in the first place." He paused. "I think it might have been as simple as the fact he _felt_ something—anything—when I kissed him. But again, that suggests some change was already underway inside of him. Maybe becoming engaged to Miyuki simply got the ball rolling, and he began looking for someone to fill the father-sized hole in his heart. Unconsciously, of course."

"And you kissed him because you can't help but seek out people—mostly men, as it turns out—who have highly Intuitive personality types," Kichijouji finished, finding they'd come full circle. "Masaki, I'm the last person who expected to say this, but you should get to know Miyuki-san better as a person. If you find out that Miyuki-san isn't like Akane-chan, you might be able to handle the idea of…not sharing, exactly. But both of you loving Tatsuya at the same time."

Masaki sighed. "All right. If you think it's best." He was less than thrilled, but Kichijouji had never steered him wrong. "I hope I can stop reacting to her appearance or her pheromones or whatever it is. It's like her family crafted her to be a Man Magnet. Surely they didn't do that on purpose, but if they did . . . _why_? Not only is it inconvenient for men who are already in committed relationships, it has to be inconvenient for _her_. Everywhere she goes, men are ogling her." He'd never actually stopped to consider that before. "Geez, that must get creepy."

Kichijouji nodded, pleased that Masaki had already made the mental leap from treating Miyuki as an obstacle to treating Miyuki as a human being to be empathized with. "I think if you ask Tatsuya and Miyuki-san about their childhoods, how to approach this matter will become clear. You need to gather information."

"You're right. Good idea." Masaki smiled. "My strategist says 'Gather intel.' So I will." He glanced up at Kichijouji. "You've been invited into this weird little family, too. We're supposed to make a foursome. I mean . . .! Ugh, not sexually. A group of four. A family unit."

Kichijouji blushed, taken off guard. "Um, yes. A family unit." He felt weird at the mistaken turn of phrase 'foursome.' _Me and Tatsuya and_ _Masaki . . ._ He shut off that line of thinking. To distract himself, he resumed stroking Masaki's hair. "I'm glad to be invited. I wouldn't want to be excluded simply because I'm the one they know least well." _I suppose I'll have to introduce myself_. That was anxiety provoking. He hid behind his competitive self to keep others from getting too close. The only one he'd let slip past that mask was Masaki. Even Akane saw him as a tough genius who'd survived the loss of his parents with very little outward sign of faltering.

"I wouldn't let you be excluded," Masaki said. "If I have to befriend Miyuki, then Tatsuya has to befriend you. It's only fair. How close of friends you two become is a different matter entirely. But a good line of communication seems important, and if there were ever an emergency with Tatsuya, then Miyuki and I would need to handle it together. Likewise, if there was ever an emergency with me, Tatsuya and you would need to handle it together. This is about support and equality."

"True enough." Kichijouji was satisfied by that answer. _Masaki, only you have the ability to make me feel secure._ He wondered if the circle would completely close—if Masaki would finally be romantically involved with Miyuki and Miyuki would expect to forge a friendship with Kichijouji—but he set that possibility aside. It seemed unlikely if Miyuki were still the girl who declared Tatsuya was her everything. _But isn't that the same as me?_ He felt uneasy at that thought.


	15. Preparations

_**A/N:**_ _In light of the approaching climax of this story (pun intended), I would like to note that this story is a_ bara _romance and not a_ YAOI _romance. You can look up_ bara _on TVTropes if you're not familiar with adult Japanese manga genres, but the short version is that_ bara _romances focus on more equitable, realistic male/male relationships instead of the unbending_ seme/uke _trope of the teen genre._

 _TL;DR: Neither Tatsuya nor Masaki will be either_ seme _or_ uke _in this story. It's_ bara _, not_ YAOI.

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

 **Preparations**

Two weekends later, when Tatsuya and Masaki met for their next date, they were on the brink of graduating from high school. Miyuki's birthday was only days away, spring would officially arrive soon, and March was pleasantly warm. Trees were already blooming.

Tatsuya and Masaki opted to meet in Kyoto, since there was plenty to do there, and as usual, they rented a hotel room. Tatsuya was in the mood to go off-road riding on their motorcycles, and Masaki had immediately agreed to the idea. As a result, Tatsuya took a train that allowed him to stow his bike for the trip.

Typically, Masaki had reached the hotel first thanks to living closer. Tatsuya knocked on the door and was let in by a smiling Masaki. However, Tatsuya detected just a faint uneasiness surrounding his boyfriend. He knew he could be terrible at reading people accurately, but he hoped he was getting better at reading Masaki specifically. After all, he'd learned how to read Miyuki.

"You didn't trigger yourself off reading YAOI, did you?" Tatsuya asked, pulling Masaki into a hug.

Masaki hugged back tightly. "What? No. What's the matter? Is there something on my face?" He pulled back from the hug enough to kiss Tatsuya's lips. When the kiss ended, he looked troubled. "I'm sorry. I was trying to keep it to myself. I wanted this to be a fun day."

Tatsuya had to smile. "It still will be." He reached up and caressed Masaki's cheek. Only now after four months was he beginning to comprehend that Masaki really was here to stay—or, at least, that Masaki meant to stay. In theory, Tatsuya would get to spend his life with Masaki. "And all this means is I'm getting better at reading you. That's a good thing." He leaned in and pressed another kiss to Masaki's lips, still cupping his cheek as he did. "Now, what's wrong?"

"I don't want you to think I'm selfish. Or possessive or have personality problems. I don't know what's wrong with me. I want to be ethical." Masaki's brow furrowed, even as he leaned into the way Tatsuya cupped his cheek. "But I don't want to share. I know Miyuki was here first. How could she not be? She has a head start on me of five years. It's not fair for me to want to take any time away from her." He looked as confused as he sounded. "I'm a terrible person. Jouji's trying to help me, but isn't it true that I'm the one with a problem? I don't want to share Jouji, and I don't want to share you, either. When I think of Miyuki . . . and the way Akane is always chasing after Jouji . . ."

Tatsuya was surprised to hear Masaki had actually been hiding such churned up feelings, although he thought Masaki's dilemma was understandable.

Masaki groaned in frustration. "I don't understand why I can't come off it! I agreed to this in theory. I even understand the argument that you need more than one person to help you and support you. So why am I feeling this way?"

Far from being offended or upset that Masaki was having this struggle, Tatsuya found himself smiling again. He understood that if Masaki couldn't work through his feelings, it would cause a problem down the road. For now, though, Tatsuya found the idea of being wanted so much to be deeply appealing. "Given my experiences in therapy, my guess is it has something to do with your previous experiences being close to people. If I were the person making this complaint to Dr. Manoru, she'd probably say that I'd been forced to 'share' someone I loved only to have that person be taken away from me." He ran his other hand up and down Masaki's spine, holding him closely as he did. "Does it make sense if I say your possessive feelings toward me are currently flattering rather than alarming?"

Masaki laughed, and he looked relieved, albeit still guilty. He leaned in and nuzzled Tatsuya's ear. "Yes," he murmured. "It makes sense. You've been so used to people wanting to get rid of you, you never thought anyone would feel torn apart at the thought of not having you. You never thought anyone would fight to keep you. It's part of what you've been craving." He kissed Tatsuya's ear. "I'm glad it's not alarming to you. I'd feel sickened if I scared you—more sickened at myself than I do already." Masaki rested his cheek against Tatsuya's. "Forced to share someone but had that person taken away from me? I can't think of who that would be. I haven't lost anybody. You and Jouji are the ones who've lost people. I still have a whole, happy family."

Goosebumps rippled down Tatsuya's arm at the kiss to his ear. "I don't mean that someone had to die. I think, in fact, it's the opposite: The person is very much alive, but you don't get as much time with them as you need or don't see them much anymore." He continued to run his hand up and down Masaki's back, trying to think of what Dr. Manoru would say. "Perhaps it's a grandparent you had to yourself at first who then had to split their attention between a whole horde of grandchildren. It could even be your mother. You had her to yourself for four years, right? Then your sister Akane was born. Making room for a younger sibling is a natural, but depending on how it happened, you could have felt threatened or tossed aside."

Masaki flinched a little at that. He squeezed Tatsuya's waist. "I – I don't . . ." His tone turned dark. "I have to be a good older brother."

Tatsuya felt proud of himself for mimicking Dr. Manoru's line of questioning well enough to help Masaki figure out what was going on. "Ah. You're the older sibling. The older brother to two little sisters. You're supposed to be protective of them. Be strong for them. And while they might be allowed to hit you—although not without getting in trouble for it—the world would effectively end if you hit back. You're the _boy_."

Masaki sighed and squeezed Tatsuya's waist tighter. "Yeah. And Akane and I don't get along sometimes; we clash a lot. I guess the person I'm fighting over is my mom. My father is busy and always was. All the time and attention came from Mom. But as soon as Akane was born . . ." He groaned. "It wasn't ever the same. Is it really as petty as that?"

"You were _four_." Tatsuya hugged Masaki tighter as well. "All four-year-olds still want to be the center of their mother's attention, don't they? I can't remember being four, myself, but what I've learned about others suggests this is true. Babies take an enormous amount of time and energy from their mothers; you wouldn't be able to help feeling ignored." He smiled. "I'm not Dr. Manoru, or any other psychologist, but my amateur guess is that any woman who takes up my time or Kichijouji's time will be seen as a potential threat in your eyes. A girl showed up and changed your whole world. Perhaps what is worse is that that same girl constantly declares she's in love with Kichijouji and will marry him. Especially in this case, you can't help seeing your sister's threat as being very real."

Masaki grimaced. "Yeah, you're probably right about that." He stroked the back of Tatsuya's neck lightly. "But you're not my mom. And neither is Jouji. So don't I have to get over it? If this was a battle over my mom, I lost already. Nothing can change that. Mom spends all kinds of time with Akane and Ruri that she never spends with me. She's always taking them shopping with her, taking them to spas, getting manicures and pedicures with them . . . Girl stuff. It goes without saying I'm never invited. That would be weird. Besides, I'm a grown man now."

Tatsuya was abruptly grateful for the voice of Dr. Manoru that now lived inside his mind. "You just dismissed your own pain," he said, repeating something Dr. Manoru had said to him dozens of times now. "Having lost the battle doesn't mean you don't still hurt. What you'll have to do—using your own therapist you now have—is slowly pull apart the past from the present. There is no 'getting over it.' There's just a process of working through what happened in the past so that you don't think the past will repeat itself in your present or future."

Masaki took a deep breath. "Got it. I'll give it a shot, at least."

Tatsuya cupped both of Masaki's cheeks. "I don't want you to fight Miyuki over me or to hate her. But to a certain extent, I welcome your possessiveness. I'm glad you love me enough to want to vie for my time and attention. If I felt the same toward you, I'm sure you'd be flattered. But you also wouldn't want me to actually fight with Kichijouji."

"No, that's true. I want you and Jouji to get along. Hell, I want you to do better than that. I want you and Jouji to be friends. You're a lot alike in some ways. I feel like if I left you two alone in a room together, you'd hit it off. Neither of you has had a chance yet to spend time with each other, that's all."

Tatsuya cringed. "Well, if you say so." He lowered his hands. "Admittedly, I don't expect much. I respect Kichijouji's brilliance, and we could probably put hundreds of people to sleep with long talks about magic theory. But I don't expect him to like me." He snorted. "He used to hate me, and now I'm his boyfriend's other boyfriend. Also, I've been told many times how rude and socially distant I am. Miyuki chastises me often for not being more polite or welcoming or open. I would say . . . it would be good if Kichijouji can learn to tolerate me."

Masaki seemed concerned and surprised. "Tolerate you? Hate you? Jouji never hated you. You surprised him, and you made him adjust to the fact that sooner or later, he'd have people on his own level to compete with, but he never hated you. When he was angry, the person he was angry with was himself. You have nothing to do with that. And then he felt better."

Tatsuya released Masaki and then led him over to the couch, settling there with him. "Perhaps. And maybe he even sees past my status as a B.S. magician, given all that has happened. But that doesn't mean he'll like me once we really sit down to talk. And given how possessive and threatened you feel about Miyuki, don't you think Kichijouji might feel possessive of you and threatened by me? It doesn't take a genius to see that you are Kichijouji's everything. He loves you with the same dedication and depth that Miyuki loves me."

"Whoa," Masaki protested. "You're still making it sound like Jouji hates you. He hasn't been jealous at all. I wish I could feel as secure as he does." He wrapped his arm around Tatsuya's shoulders. "Have you been thinking about this the whole time? About Jouji hating you?"

Tatsuya snorted again. "No. Actually, I've been avoiding thinking about it. We created a separate world for ourselves—half of it in Toyama and half of it here in Kyoto. We took ourselves out of our everyday spaces and went on hiking trips or soaked in onsen. In short, we romanced each other. As long as our worlds didn't cross with the everyday ones, I didn't think about Kichijouji and you didn't think about Miyuki. But now we're getting ready to graduate from high school and go to college. Our little two-person world will expand to include Kichijouji and Miyuki on nearly a daily basis. Miyuki's goal is to make a four-person family out of us. So now you're facing the reality of sharing me with Miyuki, and I've facing the possibility that Kichijouji will neither like me nor accept me."

Masaki tightened his arm around Tatsuya, hugging him. "Jouji couldn't possibly hate you. Miyuki didn't turn out to hate me, did she? It was just a misunderstanding. Tatsuya, Jouji already accepts you. He knows how I feel about you." He scanned Tatsuya's expression. "Will you at least talk with Jouji? You two should talk."

"You talked with Miyuki, so yes." Tatsuya chuckled. "Well, Miyuki didn't give you much of a choice, now did she? She just showed up and ambushed you. But you two share the same goal: you both want me to be happy."

Masaki hugged Tatsuya tightly with both arms. "That's right." He kissed Tatsuya's cheek, and then Tatsuya's lips. "We're going to make sure you're happy. Now, let's go off-road biking. I think the fresh air will feel great, and we can both stop being worried about the future."

Tatsuya grinned. "Yes. Let's."

* * *

For two hours, Tatsuya and Masaki zipped their way through trails. Finding themselves near civilization briefly, they stopped and ate, and then they spent another hour making their way back in a more direct path.

Once they returned to the hotel, they took a long, steaming shower together. Then they collapsed on the sofa together and ate a snack chosen from the room's supplies. As it turned out, that meant pink chocolate Kit-Kats and green tea.

Once they finished, Masaki kissed Tatsuya softly. "I've been thinking about how I had no idea you were really this other person on the inside. If Jouji hadn't intervened, I would have kept on seeing your stoicism and logic and thinking that was all there was to you. I'm glad I got to know you better."

Tatsuya smiled. "As am I. And trust me when I say I never imagined saying such words to anyone not Miyuki." He leaned in and returned the kiss. "I keep thinking about how other people I know would think our relationship is silly and temporary. Or deviant and temporary. The odds aren't exactly in our favor." But Tatsuya knew he was all about beating the odds. "We 'shouldn't' do this because it's not 'productive'—as though having children should be the _only_ reason for any romantic relationship." He could see how ridiculous that was. "Two people loving each other should be enough." He suspected that might be the closest he ever got to directly saying _I love you._ Then again, Japanese culture had never been pinned on saying the words. In the not so distant past, saying such words was considered a sign of inferior love instead.

Masaki nodded. The way his eyes shone, he'd definitely received the intended message. "It is enough." He cupped Tatsuya's cheek and caressed it. "We're happy."

Tatsuya came to an abrupt decision. "A few weeks ago, I said I would be interested in sex, and you verified that it takes a lot of preparation. If you're ready, I want to begin." He knew this was an incredibly serious topic, just as serious as a lifetime commitment. "I'm willing to undergo preparation first if it makes you more comfortable. And, to simply be logical about it, I probably should go first so you can show me what to do. Given your trigger about sexual violence and abuse, you are at risk for a painful reaction if I mess up. I intend to be perfect, so that requires me to have a hands-on experience first. No pun intended."

Masaki's eyes widened. Then an incredibly tender expression stole over him. "You don't have to be perfect." He kissed Tatsuya's lips, mouthing. "Performance pressure is one of the most common causes of not being able to get into the moment enough to have sex. I don't want you to feel too hyperaware and risk getting frustrated. Sex is pretty technical, but once you learn a few things, it's not difficult." He smiled. "Staying emotionally present is the hard part, but you've already worked on that."

"For months now, yes," Tatsuya said.

"I 1brought what we'll need just in case, like I said I would." Masaki blushed faintly. "And you don't have to be penetrated first. Fingering is a form of, um . . . you can do that without doing anything else. Men have a place . . . Well, it's our prostate gland. It's a horrible name. But everything sounds horrible when doctors talk about it." He took a deep breath. "Anyway, if you stroke it after a guy is turned on, then he'll come really hard. It's the famous 'G-spot.'"

Tatsuya gleaned the most basic information he thought he was expected to pull from the explanation. "So we start by using only our fingers? And thanks to our prostate glands, this feels very pleasurable?" He nodded slowly. "I suppose I can see that. An erection is very large, and the target part of the body for sex is actually a muscle. If we just jumped straight to the full penetration part, it would be like someone running a marathon without stretching first. That would have to hurt." His brain reduced it one more time. "Oh, I see. The fingering _is_ the warm-up stretching. It's just that we can do the fingering by itself without the sex part added on yet."

"Yes." Masaki took a deep breath. "So if you decide you don't want to have sex yet, that's okay. Smart, even." He stood and gently pulled Tatsuya up with him. "We'll need the bed for this. There really isn't any good way to get to where we need to touch. Two basic ways are either you turn your back to me and get on your hands and knees, or you lie on your back, and just like you're doing a hamstring stretch, sort of curl into a ball."

Tatsuya realized he needed to face Masaki while attempting something this new and different. Not being able to track Masaki's facial expressions would spook him. "I'll just lie on my back." He started to simply strip off, feeling quite business-like about learning this new technique, but then he paused, remembering to factor in the "sexy effect." Or, potentially, the romance. "Should I just get naked? Or would you like to do the honors?"

Masaki grinned, and then his expression softened. "Whatever makes you more comfortable. Some people like to undress themselves. Other people only feel loved when they're undressed by someone else. But most people probably go back and forth. What appeals to you right now?"

These kinds of questions were the ones Tatsuya was still unused to—not just in that they were questions asking him to consider his emotional state but also in that they implied his personal needs mattered. "I think it would be nice to be undressed. You're a naturally passionate man, and when you really engage it's . . ." Tatsuya wasn't quite sure what word he wanted. He drifted over to the curtains and pulled them shut, dimming the bright afternoon light into something softer. Then he returned to Masaki. "You make these things special."

"I'm glad you feel that way." Masaki lifted Tatsuya's shirt slowly with both hands. At the same time, he kissed his lips. "I want you to feel special," he whispered. Caressing over Tatsuya's arms, he guided the shirt up and over Tatsuya's head. Then Masaki embraced Tatsuya and kissed his neck. His hands trailed over Tatsuya's back and sides in long strokes.

Tatsuya closed his eyes and slipped his arms around Masaki's waist. His neck tingled, and goosebumps flashed down his arm. He felt himself seeking the sensation he associated with their lovemaking—a specific feeling and mood—and when he found it, he relaxed into it. He could trust Masaki to be careful and thorough. He could simply trust Masaki.

"I want you to undress me in return," Masaki murmured. He kissed Tatsuya's ear and then gently slipped his hands down to the waistband of Tatsuya's cargo pants. "I like that you dressed casually today. I like seeing you relaxed." He unbuttoned Tatsuya's pants and slid them down and then grasped Tatsuya's boxers and pulled them slowly down as well.

"I'm glad I can relax." Tatsuya stepped out of his clothing. When Masaki straightened, Tatsuya unbuttoned his shirt. "I admit to curiosity. Will I be touching you in return?" He slipped Masaki's shirt off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He caressed over Masaki's chest, enjoying the warmth.

Masaki smiled. "Well, I hope you'll want to. I want you to." He closed his eyes briefly, his expression tranquil as Tatsuya stroked his chest. Then Masaki took a few small items out of his pockets. They looked like tiny versions of the individual plastic pouches juice sometimes came in. "This is our lubrication."

Tatsuya read one package quickly, discovered it was gel, and nodded. "All right." He took them and set them on the side of the mattress. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped Masaki's pants, lowering both them and Masaki's boxers. He caressed over Masaki's budding erection and then helped him climb out of his remaining clothes. Once Tatsuya straightened again, he kissed Masaki. "Okay, let's find out if I like this."

Without any hesitation, Tatsuya climbed onto the bed and stretched out on his back. Once Masaki climbed on as well, he did as suggested and curled up, clasping his hands behind his knees. He didn't bother to feel awkward about it. The basic body mechanics were just what they were.

Masaki blushed hotly. "God, that's so sexy. I hope you think so when I do it for you." He knelt in front of Tatsuya. For a moment, he seemed to lose his voice. Then he murmured, "It helps if you, touch here at the same time." He reached out and gently stroked Tatsuya's half-hardness.

Masaki took one of the little plastic packages and snapped off the tapered, nozzle-like end, turning it into a pipette. Thick, aromatic gel seeped onto his finger. It smelled sweet. Masaki let some of the gel drip out onto Tatsuya and then used his fingers to rub and caress, slowly working his way lower, until he caressed Tatsuya's entrance.

For a second, Tatsuya's body didn't know what to make of the sensation. He reached up, just as Masaki had suggested, and stroked over his own erection, deciding he needed to urge his body to make a decision. By the third pass, the two sensations combined together into pleasure. He could feel the tiny muscle twitching under Masaki's finger, being massaged into relaxation.

"Good," Masaki whispered. "That helps, doesn't it?" He pressed gently, caressing in circular strokes. He applied more gel as he went. "Human beings are really sensitive here. Sensitivity can mean a lot of pleasure. Going slowly and gently is essential for that."

Taking note of the explanation, Tatsuya continued to stroke himself. Then Masaki added more gel, and the pleasure doubled. He gasped, having not expected it, and let his eyes drift shut. The massaging of Masaki's finger caused goosebumps to break out across his entire body, and his nipples flashed hard.

"That's it." Masaki's voice was warm. "If you can, relax into it. This moment is all about you and making you feel good. That's all I want. You deserve to have a good experience." He kept stroking and massaging.

Tatsuya could feel the relaxation—both in the tiny muscle and all throughout his body. The massaging sensation seemed to turn into one long caress, and that was when Tatsuya's arousal surged, filling him with a wave of pleasure. He moaned, his stroking of his erection slowing down as he sank into the tingling sensations now radiating through his abdomen.

Masaki added more gel again and gently pressed, skirting the edge of penetration, massaging with his fingertip. "Let me know if you feel comfortable with more."

"I'm ready," Tatsuya said instantly. He opened his eyes and took in Masaki's expression. Just the tiny pressure had sent a spark flying up his spine. If it was going to feel that good, he was comfortable with proceeding.

Masaki sucked in his breath, added more gel, and pressed his fingertip inside slowly. At the slightest resistance, he stopped.

Tatsuya inhaled sharply. There was pressure and then an odd sensation as his body reacted to the foreign "invader." Then the pleasure returned. Tatsuya resumed stroking himself, making sure the pleasure remained the dominant feeling. He felt the way his inner muscles clenched, but after a few moments, the relaxation returned, and Tatsuya nodded at Masaki to continue.

Masaki slowly pressed, sliding more of his finger in. "Remember to breathe, and remember that you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. If you get uncomfortable, I'll stop."

The reminder gave Tatsuya the reassurance he needed. He let his eyes drift closed again, and he focused on his breathing and staying relaxed. An internal surge of pleasure, like a low, warm hum, erupted throughout his abdomen. "No, it's good," he murmured. When paired with the way he stroked himself, he knew he could build up to an orgasm.

"I'm glad," Masaki murmured. He pressed in for a moment longer, then slowly pulled his finger partway out. He paused and slid it back in. "I love the way you relax. You're beautiful when you feel peaceful."

Having not expected the compliment, Tatsuya felt the words soar right into his chest and warm him, but any reply was cut off by the feeling of Masaki's finger sliding back in. Tatsuya gasped, and when Masaki repeated the gesture, he moaned softly. The pleasure radiated through him from both sides of his body—from his own hand and Masaki's.

"When it's done right, this feels good." Masaki kept slowly, gently pumping his finger. "It can be the most pleasurable thing in the world. I love it. I love giving, and I love receiving."

The repetitious movement drew another moan from Tatsuya, and as Masaki's words washed over him, he felt himself relax even more deeply. The result was a deeper moan. He had to agree. His body's inner muscles were being massaged, and as he continued to stroke himself, he felt a shudder race through his hips. The sensation was blooming into a pleasure equal to when Masaki made love to him with his mouth. Perhaps greater. He ended up listening to the sound of his own moans, surprised he could be so vocal.

Masaki moaned as well. "I am so hard right now. Listening to you sound like that is making me so hot." He kept stroking, slow and steady. "Do you want me to stroke the G-spot?"

Tatsuya felt heat collecting in his body, and Masaki's admissions of arousal caused his own pleasure to spike. "Yes. Go ahead." He wanted to have the full experience if he could.

Masaki gently quested, rubbing his finger in careful circles, backtracking. Then he crooked his finger. "There." He slowly rubbed over Tatsuya's prostrate. "It's a small, swollen spot." He stroked it in a little petting motion.

There was an even sharper spike of pleasure, and then suddenly the pleasure burst through Tatsuya in high, cresting waves. He cried out, and when Masaki continued the circular petting motion, he cried out again. He hadn't imagined a pleasure this sharp and powerful. He hadn't imagined he could cry out this way. He instinctively stroked himself faster, and then his hips were jerking as he came. Wild, fiery tingles shot through his entire body and then slowly faded into leftover, pleasurable throbs.

Masaki waited until Tatsuya's body was completely relaxed, which didn't happen right away. He petted Tatsuya's thigh with his other hand while he waited. "That was beautiful. You're beautiful." He gently withdrew his finger. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Masaki climbed off the bed and returned after a moment with a warm, damp wash cloth. He helped Tatsuya get cleaned up and then settled in at his side, wrapping an arm around Tatsuya.

Tatsuya felt so relaxed from the orgasm that he was half asleep. He managed to get an arm wrapped around Masaki as well. "That is a small taste of what it feels like for men to have sex with each other?" He snorted with faint amusement. "No wonder men have been having sex with each other for all of recorded history."

Masaki chuckled. He stroked Tatsuya's hair gently. "It feels pretty good, yeah? I don't believe in a higher power, but if I did, I'd wonder why he, she, or it made it feel so good, and then let people go around telling each other not to do it. I'm going to quote Jouji on this: 'I'm tired of having other cultures' mores shoved up our asses when we could be making love to those asses instead.'"

"It's a fair assessment." Tatsuya laughed and shook his head. "Kichijouji knows how to bottom-line an issue, apparently." He shifted his arm until he could caress Masaki's back. "And I agree: Adults don't need legal or moral policing about whom they may have a consensual sexual relationship with." He smiled at Masaki. "You can also thank Kichijouji for my current take on this issue."

Masaki kissed Tatsuya softly. "He's very good to me. He loves me." He squeezed Tatsuya gently. "He loves me as much as you do. You don't have to say it. I know it's true. You're a very expressive person – just not with your words."

Tatsuya felt himself smile again, and he reached up with his free hand and caressed Masaki's face. "I'm glad it's obvious to you." He pulled Masaki into a lingering kiss, mouthing his lips for several moments. When he leaned back, he murmured, "Would you like to trade positions with me now?"

Masaki nodded, looking suddenly nervous, but he was also smiling. When Tatsuya made room for him, he lay down on his back and drew his knees up to his chest. He let out a little huff of embarrassment. At the same time, however, Tatsuya could see that Masaki was hard and leaking.

"I'm glad you have prior experience." Tatsuya picked up a packet of gel and opened it, squeezing an ample amount onto his finger. "I would never want to cause you discomfort, much less pain. Since you know what to do, everything has been much easier." He scooted into position, and noting Masaki's tenseness, he stroked his thigh with his free hand. "I'll go as slowly as you did." He reached down, spreading the gel over the little muscle and making it twitch. Then he massaged with his fingertip.

Masaki watched for a second and then shut his eyes. He gasped when the gel first made contact, and then he relaxed some, taking deep breaths. Tatsuya's massaging motion with his fingertip made Masaki moan softly. "I trust you," he whispered.

The words had a powerful effect on Tatsuya. He wanted that trust, and he wanted to be worthy of that trust. He continued his caressing, massaging in slow, circular motions, and then reached up and stroked his hand over Masaki's erection. The massaging was easy, so he felt empowered to stroke Masaki at the same time.

Masaki moaned more deeply this time, and he relaxed further. "That feels really good." A bead of wetness welled up on his tip and slowly trickled down over Tatsuya's fingers. His entrance twitched repeatedly. A flush spread through his face and chest, and his nipples hardened.

Having just experienced this pleasure himself, Tatsuya found himself utterly captivated. _I am capable of bringing you great pleasure. And I want to—very much so._ "Good," he whispered. He paused, realizing that he was running out of gel, and applied more to his finger. _The wetness clearly matters._ He resumed the caresses, and he reached back up, stroking Masaki's erection slowly. Just as Masaki had done for him, he pressed gently, barely parting the muscle. "Tell me when you feel ready."

Masaki let out a stuttering moan and opened his eyes for a moment. His face had relaxed with pleasure. His erection twitched in Tatsuya's hand. "I'm ready." His voice was low and husky.

First applying more gel just to be safe, Tatsuya slowly pressed. Masaki's inner muscles parted, and Tatsuya gently slid his finger in. He kept his gaze on Masaki's face, watching for even the smallest hint of discomfort. None appeared. He paused when his finger was fully inside and then grasped Masaki's erection again, caressing. He hadn't wanted to divide his attention during the penetration, but now he could focus on expanding Masaki's pleasure.

Masaki had let his eyes drift shut as Tatsuya's finger slid in. When Tatsuya was all the way inside, he'd let out a contented-sounding sigh. Then Tatsuya resumed stroking his erection, and he moaned, long and low and soft. "I love that you want to give this to me."

"I'll give you as much as you want." It was an easy promise to make given the level of connection Tatsuya felt they were building—and connections had been far too rare in his life. Tatsuya would do the work it took to maintain and grow their connection.

Carefully, Tatsuya slid his finger most of the way out and then sank in again. It made him pause in his stroking of Masaki's erection, but after figuring out a slow rhythm for his finger, he matched his strokes to it. He drank in the sight of Masaki's bliss.

After the first few moments of silent pleasure, Masaki started moaning. His moans were soft and quick. His hips trembled as Tatsuya continued caressing him from both sides. His expression was radiant. Eventually, he recovered his voice. "Tatsuya . . . yes."

Tatsuya stirred faintly from seeing and hearing Masaki's arousal and pleasure. He kept his rhythm slow, wanting Masaki to enjoy this for as long as possible. "Since you are more experienced than I am, tell me if you need something more," he murmured. He wanted to caress Masaki's G-spot, but he assumed he had to wait, given Masaki might come nearly instantly.

Masaki nodded. He opened his eyes long enough to make eye contact and smile. Then he closed his eyes and rested his head. "Talk to me," he whispered. "Tell me what you're thinking." His words were punctuated by quiet, sighing moans. By now he was leaking on Tatsuya's hand steadily.

Tatsuya hadn't expected that request, and Masaki had landed him a solid challenge. But he decided to rise to meet it. "I'm thinking that watching you in so much pleasure is arousing," he murmured. He firmed up his grip on Masaki's erection slightly, giving him more friction. "Just doing this for you has made me half hard again."

Masaki moaned loudly. He squirmed a little, and then forced himself to stay still. His erection twitched. "Do you – Do you think you'll want to – be inside me – in other ways?"

Tatsuya felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "I do. I _know_ I want to. I've already tried to imagine it." He paused and then pushed himself to continue. "I want it to be the best it can be for you. As much as possible, I want it to be perfect." He curled his finger slightly, not quite seeking Masaki's prostate but gently exploring the soft heat.

Masaki's moans turned aching. A shudder ran through his hips. "Yes. Like that. That's good." For a few moments, Masaki panted, and then he whispered, "I've imagined it."

Tatsuya's pulse jumped at the tone of Masaki's moans and then jumped again at his words. He stirred almost all the way hard again. "I want to," he repeated for reassurance. "I will do so as soon as you feel ready." For a moment, he imagined it again, this time better. The soft heat that now surrounded his finger would surround his erection, and he hoped with all that he had within him that Masaki would be able to moan this way.

Inspired, Tatsuya curved his finger more, this time seeking Masaki's prostate. After a moment, he detected a hard, round spot against his fingertip. "Is this the spot?" he murmured. He caressed it gently.

Masaki cried out. "Yes," he gasped. "Oh, god, yes." He rocked against Tatsuya's finger for a second, then made himself be still. His erection twitched and throbbed in Tatsuya's other hand. "Yes. Keep – Keep stroking. Just like that."

Tatsuya was left breathless from witnessing Masaki's renewed pleasure. "Mn." He kept up the caresses, pumping his finger so that his fingertip would glide over the spot each time. He increased his stroking of Masaki's erection at the same time. "It's good," he found himself saying. "Seeing you in pleasure is good. My desire is to give you more and more."

Masaki cried out and moaned freely. In the end, he couldn't keep himself from rocking his hips. He came almost immediately that way. With a plaintive wail, he spattered himself, and his body tightened down on Tatsuya's finger.

Tatsuya continued to stroke Masaki right through his orgasm, and then he stayed still, not removing his finger until Masaki's tight muscles relaxed. "I'll be back with a washcloth." He scooted off the bed and retreated to the bathroom, first washing his hands and then getting the washcloth for Masaki.

Once Masaki was cleaned up and comfortable, Tatsuya settled on the bed beside him, knowing Masaki would want to curl up and relax afterward. He dropped a kiss to Masaki's lips.

Masaki let out a murmur and kissed back. He rolled onto his side, lying face to face. He draped one leg over Tatsuya's and wrapped an arm around Tatsuya's waist. Then he settled in. His body was still hot.

Tatsuya had heard a few jokes about the "cuddlers" versus the "roll-over-and-sleepers" post-sex. He couldn't understand what was funny. Having his lover tucked against his body was a pleasant experience, whether it was before or after sex. He hugged Masaki tightly and then slowly stroked his back. _I'm a ridiculously lucky bastard,_ he caught himself thinking. _I have two people who love me. I have two people I love._

It was truly the last thought Tatsuya had ever expected to have. It was the last experience he had ever expected to have.

He had no words at all for the level of his relief.


End file.
